Checkmate
by thegirlwhosinlovewithapen
Summary: Beautiful, strange, and alone — she is Valentine vi Britannia, third princess of the Holy Empire, seventy-third in line for the imperial throne. She had spent most of her days in Pendragon, hopelessly yearning for a life out of the golden cage she was in. Amidst a world full of political intrigue, greed, murder, and deceit — will she find the answers she truly seek? (R1 setting)
1. Chapter I - In The Beginning

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Code Geass. All credits goes to Sunrise.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 _In The Beginning  
_

"Check."

Valentine pursed her lips and scowled at the raven-haired boy sitting across from her. He merely returned her heated gaze with a haughty grin — young as he was, Lelouch was always arrogant. But it was one thing she had admired from him, after all, he does have a right to be proud of himself.

Her fingers hovered above the chessboard, over the white king piece, who glinted back at her as if winking. It was mockery, as if it already knew who the winner was. Nevertheless, Valentine knew she was doomed. After a few moments of thought, she flicked the chess piece backwards, only for it to be sidestepped by a mere pawn.

"I won." Lelouch announced triumphantly.

Valentine, being her strange usual eight year-old self, merely rolled her eyes. "I hate this. You always win."

"And you always lose."

"Do not!" She crossed her arms. "I won over Euphy and big sis Cornelia and Clovis —"

"But not to me."

"Hmph. But you can't beat big brother Schneizel. He's always better than you."

Lelouch leaned in and flicked her forehead, in which she whimpered. "It's because he's older. Mother said that the older you get, the smarter you become."

"You're just saying that because you lost to him!" Valentine retorted, clutching the reddening spot her brother just hit. "Wait 'till I tell Mother what you've done!"

"I'm not scared. Now, hand it over." Lelouch smirked as he stretched out his palm, wiggling his fingers. "Come on Val — you promised."

Valentine looked over her brother doubtfully, hesitating. She had promised, yes, but to Lelouch? The bargain was one of her treasured things, carefully hidden away into the folds of her dress. Now, the girl began to wonder why she even agreed to duel her terrifyingly clever (but somewhat of a clumsy idiot, sometimes) in a game of wits — in which, the latter is obviously superior on.

There were two options, of course. One: she could simply tell him no — which was quite easy. But knowing Lelouch, he'll probably think of a way to take revenge on her, which isn't that cruel, but something worth laughing at.

And Valentine hates to be laughed at.

The second one was also simple. She could just fulfil her end of the bet and hand her precious item over. There were many fears listed on Valentine's mind, but she suddenly remembered how Mother always said that Val always keeps her promises.

"You'll take care of it, won't you?" She said slowly, her eyes tinged with uncertainty.

Lelouch nodded, impatient. "Yes, yes, I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She believed him. Of course she will — Lelouch was Valentine's big brother, only a year older than her, but it doesn't matter. He was born first, and he was almost first in everything — but not at games that considered running or carrying heavy things. With gentle fingers, Valentine took a shiny stone out of her dress pocket and handed it into his outstretched hand.

"What are you going to do with that?" She asked.

Lelouch was already examining the rock. It was a bit peculiar — metallic silver with blunt, jagged edges and a spray of tiny crystals on its thin, transparent walls. "Why are you even keeping this, anyway?"

"Because it's pretty."

He smiled at that. "You always pick up strange things and call them pretty."

"It's not just that." Valentine found herself mumbling. "I — um…I found them on the beach back at my birthday and…and it was a fun day. Nunnally helped me look for it. Mother even said it might be my lucky charm."

Lelouch peered at Valentine, who was looking down on her shoes and playing with her fingers. He knew what that meant — by any other means, his sister was _shy._ Especially when it comes to admitting things she couldn't normally say. Oftentimes when she talked and moved, the young boy could almost picture her as a bashful doe he would often read in books. She was never a noisy girl in front of others, Valentine was quiet and invisible. But when they're alone, she turns almost…normal.

"Is that so?" Lelouch gave his sister a curious glance and resumed at turning the stone over and over.

"Yes." Realizing that her voice was bit too soft, her eyes suddenly hardened as she said the word again, only louder this time. "Yes!"

Valentine was surprised when Lelouch laughed — Lelouch seldom laughs. Especially at her jokes. Yes, he might snigger when she tripped over the hem of her dress or snort when she says the wrong things, but seeing him truly laugh was a rare sight. Her brother is serious, and almost too grown-up.

She couldn't help but smile. "But please be careful, big brother. Don't lose it."

"I won't. I promised, didn't I?" He said warmly, with a sly smile on his face.

But weeks later, Lelouch lost that piece of rock, anyway.

* * *

Valentine vi Brittania stood by the giant courtyard of the Imperial Villa, her fingers curled around the white queen she didn't know she was already clutching.

She smiled wistfully at the memory. _Liar,_ she thought, _Lelouch was always a liar._

But a good one, at that.

She held the object in front of her and raised it against the sunlight. It glimmered like calm water — it was made of cheap glass, yet, it was beautiful. Light filtered out of the pools into thousand, tiny facets. She stared at the figure, mystified. It made her wonder, of how such a small, solid, piece could sparkle like a million-lit candles.

"Princess." A cool, calm voice snapped Valentine back to reality.

She tensed, and lowered her arms back to her sides. "Is it time, already?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry."

Valentine sighed and stood up straight. It was difficult to move in such a dress — with its many under-skirts and a tight, jewelled bodice. But growing up with such strict etiquette teachers, the young princess managed to do so with utmost grace. After all, if she ever did one small mistake such as tripping or falling off balance, Valentine would always find herself being criticized and scolded by many.

 _You are my daughter and it is my blood that flows into your veins,_ her father had once said — Valentine could never forget how his eyes blazed with fury as she stood in front of him, a small, cowering mess of dirt and tears, _it is superior amongst all. A foolish disgrace like you could ruin it after one small mistake. And you do nothing but mistakes. So dare shame me and I will see to it that you will never open your eyes again. Understand?_

She was broken — cold, alone and weak as she wept. But her fear at her father was even greater than the mad, clawing loneliness inside of her. The younger Valentine quelled her anguished sobs and stood up, silent tears pouring down her face as she bitterly said _"Yes, Father."_

Valentine closed her eyes. It was a memory again — one not worth remembering. It wasn't happy or pretty. But then again, when was the last time she laughed — a real kind of laughter? Long ago, many years ago — she could hardly remember it. She heaved a sigh one more time and turned around to face her personal Knight.

Alyn Crosswell's blood-red eyes stared back at her, though the way he cocked his head must mean she had worried him.

"Did Father summoned me?" She only asked, a small smile on her face as she settled the chess piece on the huge fountain's edge.

"Not exactly, Your Highness."

Valentine shook her head, though her smile remained plastered on her face. "You worry too much, Alyn. What's the matter?"

"The princess Euphemia personally asked for you." He replied, though his voice seemed to soften. "She's currently waiting by the —"

"Valentine!" Alyn's words were suddenly cut off by a cheerful yell of her name. Valentine's head snapped up and she immediately spotted her half-sister's pink locks.

Euphemia was already making her way towards her, beaming and waving a little. Valentine raised her hand too, albeit a little hesitant, and waved back.

"Euphemia — you're here." She managed to say although her words display far too much obviousness.

"I just wanted to see my sister for the last time." Euphemia replied, smiling.

Valentine blinked. "The last time? What do you mean?"

Instead of replying, Euphemia carefully took Valentine's both hands and said "Come, walk with me."

Valentine glanced uncertainly at Alyn's direction. Her gaze caught his and she nodded.

"We won't be gone long, Alyn." She assured him and raised an eyebrow at Euphemia. "Right?"

"Or too far." Her sister added.

Alyn shook his head, sighing in disbelief. "Someday, someone's going to kill me for being too easy on you."

"Thank you." Valentine gave him a grateful smile. "Let's go, Euphemia."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Euphy?" Euphemia complained as Valentine tugged her away.

"I'm sorry — Euphy."

The pink-haired princess gave a tinkling laugh as she kept up with her half-sister's pace. Valentine always thought Euphemia's laugh is always pretty, like calming wind chimes. "That's better."

As they walked away from the courtyard and towards the Imperial Villa's great gardens, Valentine was surprised when her sister pulled her in close and whispered "I hope someday, I'll get a knight like yours."

"A knight like…Alyn?" Valentine asked, her voice sounding a bit confused.

Euphemia's smile grew wider as she nodded. "M-hmm. Alyn always takes good care of you, and he's always so nice."

"Isn't Guilford the same to Cornelia? Knights are supposed to be nice, Euphem— Euphy."

"They're different." She insisted. "Alyn to you seems more…close, I guess. And he isn't too hard on you, either. Guildford's too uptight and even Carine's is boring."

Valentine couldn't think of something to say after that, though her heart was beating a beat faster than normal. She took it more like a warning rather than a compliment. Alyn was her friend — probably the only person she could ever count on. And she doesn't want to lose him.

 _He's too close,_ the words were blaring like an angry red light, _he shouldn't be too close._

To distract her already piling-up thoughts, Valentine cleared her throat and went back to the main subject. "You mentioned that this is the last time you'll see me. Are you leaving?"

Euphemia paused to look at her for a second long and then slowly nodded. "M-hmm."

Valentine felt her heart drop like a rock on the bottom of her stomach. Euphemia? Leaving the Pendragon?

"To where?"

She patiently waited for an answer as her pink-haired sister bent down to pick a blossoming red carnation.

"To Japan." Euphemia said at last, her pretty face now solemn and serious. "Father has appointed Cornelia there as Governor. And I will be assisting her."

Her heart lurched at the mention of the name. All of a sudden, thousand pictures of memories flooded her mind — most of them concerned a certain raven-haired brother and a blind, crippled sister. For some reason, her chest suddenly felt heavy. But she clenched her fists, willing her thoughts away. Now was not the time to mull over the past - no matter how painful they were.

"Japan?" It was too far away. "But why Japan? Why not —"

"I couldn't refuse." For one moment, Valentine swore she heard a quiver of fear in Euphemia's voice. But it was long gone the second she spoke again. "Things are getting out of hand there, lately. Especially now that Clovis is gone."

Valentine merely looked at Euphemia's amethyst eyes — _Father's eyes,_ she thought — and could obviously see the determination marring with the fear her sister is feeling as of the moment. She was going to be sent to Area 11. For one second, Valentine wished she could be the pink-haired princess standing in front of her right now. Although the place sounded absolutely ominous and desolate, with its many massacres and bloodshed, Valentine always wanted to go. Why Euphemia? She was still studying here. She's meant for the life of a princess. Valentine, on the other hand, wanted nothing but to escape from this luxurious prison. Why not send her instead?

She suddenly felt the urge to slap herself. Of course, there is no way the Emperor would let her leave this forsaken place. No matter how much begging, coercing or crying, Charles zi Britannia isn't the man who can be moved by pity nor sympathy.

He doesn't have a heart, after all. He wasn't born with one.

"I wish I could go…" Valentine found herself saying softly. She longed to go — in fact, it was the only thing she had desired. To leave Pendragon and go somewhere in a deserted island where she could be at peace. But that thought has only been a dream. It will always remain a dream.

She was so deep in thought that she flinched when she felt Euphemia's hand on hers. Valentine looked up and met her lilac eyes as steadily as she could.

"I asked Father, you know." Euphemia said, smiling at Valentine sadly. "I know how much you wanted to come. I wish you could come."

Valentine withdrew her hands. "Father would never allow it."

Euphy sighed. "I'm sorry, Val. I miss Lelouch and Nunnally too. Maybe I could —"

"Lelouch is dead." Both of Valentine's voice and eyes grew cold as soon as she heard those words. "Nunnally is dead. My siblings are already dead. There's no point talking about them anymore."

"They're not —"

"They are." Valentine's voice only signalled that the subject was now closed. Realizing that she may have sounded too hard on her sister, she sighed. "I'm-I'm sorry, I — let's just…let's don't talk about it, can we?"

Euphemia's face looked hurt, Valentine knew, but she was trying hard not to show it. Saint Euphemia — she always is the kindest, the gentlest, with the most blessed heart among all the Britannian siblings but Valentine was still figuring out if she indeed liked this pink-haired princess or was all her friendly attempts just for show? They knew each other ever since they were children but as years began to pass and that terrible "gift" was bestowed upon her, Valentine realized her feelings for her half-sister were complicated. But she could always single out the guilt that came along with it.

Slowly, Euphy nodded and smiled. Without saying anything, Valentine found the red carnation on her own hands. She looked at Euphemia, who was smiling gently.

"You remind me so much of flowers, Valentine." She finally said as her own fingers curled around Val's hand. "Even when I'm away, I'll write you back. Or we'll video call?"

Valentine smiled at that. "You know I hate technology."

"Buy you always loved Knightmares, like a boy you are." Euphemia supplied, giggling. And without warning, she pulled Valentine in for a hug. "I love you Val — we will always be sisters."

Sisters.

Valentine could only manage a weak smile back, but nodded, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions with what Euphemia had just said. But the warm, fuzzy sensation that she was feeling as of the moment is something like she had never felt before. Euphemia might be a martyr, but she was still her sister. And no one's ever been this nice to Valentine — ever since her own siblings' exile. Maybe she did like Euphemia — as stoic as Valentine would admit — a little bit…or probably more?

"Thank you, Euphemia." She whispered, every ounce of those words were filled with the truest form of gratitude. And all of a sudden, Valentine felt her eyes stinging, so she forced her eyelids shut, contented with her sister's embrace. It felt like family.

Was she going to cry?

When was the last time she cried?

 _But you hated her too,_ a small voice whispered at the back of her mind. Surprised at her own thoughts, Valentine's eyes snapped open, instantly willing herself not to pull away just so suddenly. But she wanted to. She can't hug Euphemia while her head was reeling with those consuming thoughts, the mere idea of it made Valentine's skin roil with guilt.

"Princess Valentine." Valentine opened her eyes and saw Alyn standing there, his face the look of urgency and irritation at himself for ruining the moment.

Euphemia pulled away and turned to Valentine's knight. "What's the matter, Alyn?"

"I just got the word." He said and rushed forward to the dark-haired princess, his red eyes blazing. "His Highness awaits you at the Britannia Palace. A messenger came. He wants to see you immediately."

Valentine suddenly felt like choking. A familiar sense of fear shot through her and it was probably obvious in her eyes because Alyn's face became sympathetic. She wanted to reach out to him — him, her only friend — and yet couldn't bring herself to do it. Euphemia's words were ringing back inside her ears.

Amidst the speeding beat of her heart, Valentine only nodded. What was the problem, anyway? Each and every of her visits to Charles could only mean one thing.

"I'm sorry, Euphy — I have to go." Valentine said, trying not to get swayed by the pang of regret she's feeling.

However, Euphemia smiled again and nodded. "Be careful, Val. Goodbye. We'll see each other again, don't worry."

 _I hope I'll get a knight like yours,_ Valentine could only think of that as she turned around and walked away, with Alyn by her side. Deep in her heart, she prayed — to God or to any gods out there — that someday, Euphemia will find someone who could protect her with his life. That was the only thing Valentine could ever do to repay Euphy's kindness to her over the years — to hope. It was a rare thing, because Valentine had given up hoping, had given up any shred of longing to meet her true siblings. She had accepted the fact that her big brother and little sister are already dead.

 _But at least, they're already in peace,_ she thought as gripped the flower in her hands, _maybe death is the only way I could get peace._

Maybe it is. But even death seemed a million miles away.


	2. Chapter II - Thoughts & Ruin

**Chapter Two**

 _Thoughts and Ruin_

They were playing hide-and-seek.

It was Euphemia's idea — the young, high-spirited, pink-haired girl knew better than to sit still and read books, in which, her half-siblings Lelouch and Valentine were doing. Sitting in one of the great libraries of the Imperial Villa, she suddenly stood up and proclaimed that she's going out to the gardens to play.

"No thanks." Lelouch immediately declined the invitation, preferring the solace of books rather than sunlight. "I'd rather stay here."

"But — but…who's going to play with me?" Demanded Euphemia, pouting.

"I will." Chimed in Marrybell* — their coral-haired half-sister — and hopped off a stool. "I'm going to pick a few flowers too! They're very pretty today!"

Euphy then turned to the introverted Valentine, who was curled all alone on a majestic white couch. "How about you, Valentine?"

Valentine blinked, surprised by the sudden address to her. She and Euphemia were the very least, civil and polite with each other. But they were never close enough. The pink-haired princess would often be seen with her true sister Cornelia, or even the mild-mannered Marrybell — but never with Valentine.

"Um…I-I don't…" Valentine found herself stammering. Even from afar, she could almost hear Lelouch snort at her mumbling. She suddenly felt the need to be braver, or else her brother would try to embarrass her again. "I — sure. Okay."

"Eh?" Lelouch lowered his book down and raised an eyebrow on his sister. "Are you sure you can handle it, dear sister? From what I've heard, there's a lot of bugs out there."

Valentine's eyes widened but she tried not to let her fear show. "I'm-I'm not scared."

"Stop it, Lelouch!" Euphemia grumbled, though she's obviously more scared than his sister. "It's isn't true…right?"

"Of course it isn't." Lelouch sighed, realizing his attempt had failed. "I'm just kidding."

"Oh. Thank goodness. I really couldn't play if there are spiders out there."

Valentine opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. She suddenly noticed how much Lelouch is always nice to Euphemia. Unlike what he does to her, he never laughed when Euphemia falls for no reason, never picks on her or call her names. A foreign feeling of jealousy suddenly erupted deep within her chest. But Valentine said nothing.

Marybell, who was quiet the entire time, lead her gaze towards the shelves, where a pair of giggling toddlers were playing with their toys. "Why don't we bring Nunna and Carine too? I bet they'll love it."

"That's a good idea." Euphemia agreed and followed her towards the two four year-olds. But before leaving, she once again turned back on his half-brother, who suddenly lost interest in the article he was holding. "Come on, Lelouch! Play with us. It'll be fun!" And she flashed him her most dazzling smile before walking away.

The young prince sighed and slid away from the cushions. "Fine. Fine."

Valentine merely stared at the discarded book on the table, frowning. Why was she feeling irritated all of a sudden? Was it because her brother seemed a lot nicer to Euphemia rather than to her? And if he does, maybe it was because Euphemia's a better sister.

Maybe she is.

The princess shook her head. This is bad — her mother wouldn't always forget to remind both of them to love their half-siblings as much as they loved each other. She shouldn't think of something like this. After all, they were only playing. And Euphemia's nothing but nice to her, shouldn't it be unfair to treat the pink-haired princess that way?

Hours later, Valentine found herself hiding behind the thick bushes located at the farthest walls of the garden. Lelouch was it and as far as Valentine could remember, he had already finished counting to ten. No doubt he was looking for her now.

She felt a bead of sweat drip from the back of her neck. It was hot and sunny, but she liked it. She always loved days like these — where everything is warm and the clouds above were white and fluffy, almost like cotton candy. Lelouch, however, does not. Valentine couldn't help but smile a little at the thought. He's probably getting more and more annoyed at her by now. She was always good at hiding.

She suddenly heard footsteps approaching and she froze, hardly breathing. Until —

"Found you."

Valentine emerged from her hiding spot, grinning from ear to ear. "Good — oh." Her smile instantly faded when she realized it wasn't her brother. "Who are you?"

Standing before her was a boy — with hair the same color as those sculpted decorations made of platinum and deep, violet eyes. Valentine nearly made a mistake of categorizing him as a girl, because his hair almost fell to the floor in soft waves. She felt a stab of resentment. Mother wouldn't let her keep her hair that long.

"Valentine, isn't it?" The boy asked, his voice sounded flat and indifferent.

For some reason she couldn't explain, Valentine was shaking. She instantly wished for Lelouch — for her brother to be right by her side. This boy looked strange, and his eyes looked too old and wise for his age. But she found herself nod once.

His gaze was unsettling though he didn't say anything, and she suddenly felt like an animal on display — like one of those zoos she read in books. Why is she so afraid?

"I see." He murmured. Valentine flinched when their eyes met — and she was surprised when he suddenly smiled. "Now I understand."

"W-who are you?" Valentine asked again, though her voice was quivering.

"You should have asked for the purpose of my visit, and not my name."

Her brows furrowed. "I don't understand."

The boy suddenly smiled, amused. "Of course you don't. But all will come to a clearer understanding once you're ready."

And before Valentine could say anything, he was already walking away, leaving her standing there, motionless and dumbstruck.

 _What a strange boy,_ she could only thought.

* * *

"You're remembering things again, aren't you?" Valentine blinked when Alyn's voice had reached her ears.

She settled her eyes back towards her personal knight, who was sitting right across from her. Alyn stared back, his expression indifferent and composed. But Valentine knew better — he's just as tense as she is.

Valentine managed a small smile. "I'm still getting the hang of it."

Alyn said nothing but continued to stare. She mustered another weak smile and turned her attention back to the crimson flower on her hands. As far as Valentine was concerned, she couldn't see the plant at all, but merely, Euphemia's face. Her words kept ringing back on her mind, and she realized she's more affected about her sudden departure than she would have thought.

"She's leaving." She found herself whispering.

Alyn nodded and looked out the window. "I know."

"Euphemia said she's going to assist Cornelia. That probably means she's going to be Governor, now that Clovis is dead."

Dead. Somehow, the words felt perfectly normal as she uttered it. After all, there's no point denying her older brother's death, wouldn't it? Clovis wasn't half-bad — for a half-brother, that is. Although he isn't that friendly towards Valentine compared to his sister Laila, he doesn't look at her with disdain either. In fact, he spent most of his remaining time here in Pendragon painting (and that meant ignoring her completely), just a few years before he too, was ordered to be shipped to Japan and rule the colony.

"Isn't Her Highness Cornelia in Area 18?" Alyn asked, though his voice sounded uninterested. Valentine knew he was only talking for her sake, just to keep the conversation going.

Valentine nodded. "She had done her job well. I assume Father was pleased."

Her knight didn't say anything. Both of them knew it was just a lie. Cornelia was at the battlefronts, but Val destroyed the nation's independent government from the inside. But it doesn't matter who gets all the credit, for the Emperor now sees these kind of things as irrelevant and unworthy of his attention. If this was done years ago, he would have been but now, Charles zi Britannia, already done on conquering almost half of the world, takes more than that to be impressed.

But of course, a daughter like Valentine is an exemption.

"I wonder what they want, this time." She heard Alyn mutter.

Valentine frowned a little. "Do you mean Cornelia and Euphemia?"

"I meant His Highness and your uncle."

Silence hung in the air as Valentine refused to say anything about it. Because she does too — wonder, that is. Meeting Charles isn't a rare case, as for hers, but this is actually the first time for the Emperor to call for her twice in a week. Though the young woman is certain it must mean something very important — not to her, but to him. Valentine is already used to her father's presence, but she always feels the same thing over and over again, no matter how much she tried to make it go away, a sense of fear would always be there. No matter how much she willed herself to be brave, she could — but not in front of Father.

And she loathed herself for it.

"Your Geass —" Alyn's voice snapped Valentine back to the present.

She immediately blinked twice. "I know. I'm sorry."

Valentine only bowed her head, feeling scrutinized under her knight's gaze. But she was thankful for that. At the very least, Alyn wouldn't hesitate to hold her in line. He might be her knight, but he was also Val's friend. Living in Pendragon all her life meant living with such flatters and liars. Though she's the daughter of the deceased Empress and the sister of the disgraced prince Lelouch, she knew the people had always been wary of her. She could hear their whispers behind her back, how they muttered her name and her siblings' in Japan, and oh, but how big they smiled when she faced them! Valentine is aware of everything — especially how truly toxic her smile felt when she beams back at all of them. It was all a game — a battle of lies, conspiracies and wicked schemes. Life is an arena, and the strongest always wins.

Perhaps, at some point, her father was right. And she believed him. Charles made her believe.

The car slowly halted to a stop and the car door opened for the both of them. Alyn headed out first, offering his hand once he did. And when Valentine appeared, she was ready.

Ready to face the devil she calls Father.

* * *

As Valentine reached the huge, oak doors of one of the Emperor's preferred halls, she turned to her knight. "Alyn, I doubt His Majesty would want an audience."

Alyn leaned against the wall and raised an eyebrow. "Princess, what do you take me for?"

Valentine's smile was a bit different — almost a resemblance to a real smile of amusement. "See you later."

* * *

The young man could only watch at the princess' disappearing form as the doors creaked open, revealing nothing but darkness. Everything was silent, except for the tiny clicks of her footsteps until it too, dissolved into nothing but mere shadows.

Alyn sighed as the entrance slammed shut. This was the farthest he could go and all he has to do was wait until she comes back —not that he doesn't mind. Nobody ever dares to approach this area of the palace, for the Emperor gave strict orders to not set a foot in this place. And Britannia treats his words as if came from the Holy Bible itself. So it was just him, though he oftentimes wonder if the lack of security is really necessary. There weren't any guards around.

Really, this is the place where Britannia's most powerful person usually spends his time — and there were no knights assigned anywhere within a 200-meter radius.

But Charles zi Britannia probably has his reasons — after all, only a few people knew about the Geass' existence, including Alyn. And speaking of Geass, he couldn't help but think about how Valentine's eyes glowed back at the car. He knew her power is too strong for her — too overwhelming. But the princess kept it all under control through sheer willpower. It took such an unbearably long time, but Val was already getting the hang of it.

Alyn had to admit, the first time he saw her, Valentine wasn't a pretty thing. She was all skin and bones — sickly and strange. Her eyes were too huge on her face, and there was a greenish tinge in her complexion somewhere. But after a few years — after a few, godsdamned years — she was becoming more and more beautiful by the day. He had seen various portraits of the late Empress Marianne, and he couldn't deny Valentine's resemblance — with her pin-straight black hair falling down her waist like a dark waterfall, heavy, dark fringes hanging above her eyes, which has the color in between of dark blue and violet — no, indigo — that was it. Her beautiful, indigo eyes. Val was willowy and slender, her skin the color of apple blossoms and her lips a tinge of red. He could always hear the nobles' whispers, of how the princess had grown into such a beautiful young woman, and no doubt, she's going to be a good political piece. And by that, they meant an offering of alliance — through marriage, of course.

The young knight could only scoff and shake his head in disbelief. They didn't know. They didn't know that Valentine was already her father's pawn at the age of eight. The girl was already of use, a precious thing, not only for her pretty face.

For her Geass wields a power unlike any other — something far dangerous and indestructible. Rare and treasured. And the Emperor made it clear that he wouldn't let her go any sooner.

And Alyn knew Valentine is aware of that too.

* * *

"Your Majesty, his body has arrived."

Charles merely tilted his head. "I was just speaking with Clovis. We must hurry with the plan."

"And she's here, Your Highness." The messenger said, after a dutiful nod.

The Emperor stilled, looking over the vast open space. "Send her in."

* * *

 ***Marrybell mel Britannia is actually another princess of the Britannian Empire. Though she only appears on another CG spin-off, which is entitled Code Geass: Oz of the Reflection. Let's just forget about the Glinda Knights and stuff for a sec - I just put her in because I felt like it.**


	3. Chapter III - Freedom & Broken Promises

**Chapter Three**

 _Freedom and Broken Promises_

"Lelouch! You're too young to drink wine! Spit that out!" Cried Euphemia as her eyes widened at the crystal goblet in Lelouch's hands.

The raven-haired boy settled his glass down with a grimace on his face. "You don't have to tell me — it's disgusting. I'm never going to drink that again."

"You'll change your mind once you grow up." Clovis commented, taking a sip from his own. "Wine is the gods' drink. It provides courage and confidence."

"Yeah, courage — because you'll be too drunk to even care whatever embarrassing thing you'll be doing later on." Lelouch snorted as he cut his food.

It was a grand duke's party — or someone with such high status in court, Valentine didn't know who it really was. But as far as she was concerned, whoever the person was truly loves to throw parties, and everything around them — from the food, the decorations, and the music were nothing but lavish. And as part of the royal family — almost all of the Emperor's consorts and his children are of course, invited.

Valentine could remember being happy at that time. There was so much laughter and dancing and ball gowns that it was overwhelming. Everyone residing at the Pendragon were invited, and all were dressed in expensive silks and shining jewelleries — suiting nothing but costly perfection.

As Euphemia had mentioned, they all agreed to dance together right after dinner, which they were all having. Seated around a long table, it was a rare sight, even Valentine had to admit, since almost all of her half-siblings are there — including 18 year-old Schneizel, and Cornelia, as well as Clovis — who was 16 at that time. The adults such as Mother and the other consorts were separated on another banquet, but the Emperor's presence, though highly offered, was nowhere to be found.

Which was okay, as the young princess would think. Father doesn't have time for parties anyway, no matter how much most of them are thrown for His Highness' victories over the past years.

"Where's Guinevere?" Clovis asked, looking around the long table.

"She couldn't come." Cornelia replied, spooning potatoes on her plate. "I assume she's busy. Odysseus is too." She raised an eyebrow at Euphemia's plate, noticing the brightly colored vegetables scattered around the corners of her plate. "Euphy, eat all of them. You're not going to leave the table once you don't."

Valentine heard Euphemia's complaint from somewhere, but she didn't pay much attention since she too, was acting as a babysitter for Nunnally — who was seated just beside her, a doll in hand. She already had given up on forcing her little sister to eat, and instead, diverted her eyes back at Lelouch's area — where most of the older Britannian royal siblings were talking.

"I've got a question," Schneizel's sudden announcement made everyone in their table look at him. "If you're currently engaged in a sword battle to the death with an opponent who's definitely better than you are, what would you do? Do you fight on knowing you'll likely die, or will you stop the battle and beg for your enemy's mercy?"

The princesses rolled their eyes. With Schneizel being here, there isn't always a day where he wouldn't ask a strange question. No one knew what it was for, but it became a constant part of their life too. It was relief, rather, knowing that their brother is still the same — ever strange and ever clever.

"Fight." Cornelia answered instantly. "I don't want to give my opponent the satisfaction of seeing me afraid. I'd rather die than live as a coward."

"Beg mercy, that is." Clovis said, raising an eyebrow at his half-sister. "If it's clear that I won't win, then nothing is accomplished through my death. Better a coward than a cold corpse."

"How about you Lelouch?" Valentine watched as her brother looked up from his food, surprised at the sudden question. Young as he is, Lelouch was a boy born with an unusual intellect, and that obviously had piqued the interest of their blonde-haired brother.

"Beg mercy." He said after a while.

Cornelia snorted.

Lelouch didn't look at her and continued. "And when my opponent lowers his guard, certain of his victory, I'll attack."

"You've got no honor." Cornelia said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What good is honor when you're already dead?" He shot back.

"Either way, you won't win. A master swordsman wouldn't easily lower his guard down until you're disarmed."

"Did Schneizel mentioned my enemy's a master swordsman? No. Only he was better than me. I won't check the rules to see if my survival fits with someone's codebook of fair play. Euphemia agrees with me, don't you?" He glanced at Euphy's way, much to the pink-haired princess' surprise.

Valentine noticed that Euphemia was on the verge of agreeing with him, but Cornelia's heated stare only made the young royal cower, torn between her sister and her half-brother. "Um…I-I don't know. But that's- um, that's cheating? And big sister said that cheating is definitely wrong."

The dark-haired prince harrumphed and bit hard on his steak. Meanwhile, Val eagerly waited for Lelouch to turn to her and ask for her side. She'll agree with Lelouch, of course. Not that because he's her brother, but because he actually has a point. It doesn't matter if people call you names for being afraid — it's okay to be afraid.

But Valentine's enthusiasm and excitement died down when a few minutes had passed. Her brother definitely didn't look like he wanted to ask her opinion. A jolt of hurt and irritation at both Lelouch and Euphemia shot right through her. Euphemia isn't as smart as Valentine. And Valentine is older than Euphemia by mere months. Why ask her? Why not Val?

Her smile instantly disappeared and was replaced by her usual look that almost resembled someone being slated clean. It was her mask — even her six year-old self knew she was already wearing one. Meanwhile, everyone seated at the table must've felt the tension hanging in the air for they tried to redirect Cornelia's and Lelouch's attention elsewhere, as both siblings were engaged in a staring contest so hard that sparks were almost flying.

Schneizel gave a mild chuckle. "There now, it was only a question. There's no need to be looking at each other like that. But I must commend Lelouch — that was exactly the answer I had in mind."

Cornlia scoffed but didn't say anything.

"Oh yeah?" The dark-haired prince finally commented, his face torn between annoyance and pleasure.

Valentine could only watch her older siblings bicker and about. After all, that's what she always do — sit on the side lines and watch the others go about their usual conversations, and strange logical arguments. For once in her life, the joyful cheer she has been feeling earlier had suddenly deflated like a balloon, now replaced by a feeling of loneliness. The music suddenly fell on deaf ears and she could hear nothing. When chance came for the Britannian siblings to come together, Valentine would always found herself watching. She was only an audience — an audience that loomed behind the shadows, and no one would go and even try to talk to her. No talking involved, but merely watching. She was quiet, yes, but if someone would try to engage her in a chat, she would always try to keep the discussion going. But no — even Lelouch would rather talk to Euphemia rather than her.

For the first time, Valentine felt so…empty. She felt so out of place.

Her indigo eyes flitted around. A sudden realization came into place — what was she feeling? This kind of emotion was…strange. She shouldn't be angry. She shouldn't be jealous. Lelouch loved her, doesn't he? She was his true sister. And Euphemia — Euphemia was always nice to her. Why would she even be _jealous?_

Panicked and overwhelmed, Valentine pushed her chair back so suddenly that everyone stopped in between their random jibes and looked.

"Val!" She could hear Lelouch's voice calling out to her. "Where are you going?"

Valentine refused to answer and kept on walking.

She didn't even look back.

It's not as if he cares, anyway.

* * *

Valentine gritted her teeth as the new memory came careening into her mind. Taken aback, she suddenly stopped her steps and covered both her closed eyelids with a slender palm. She couldn't think about it. Not now. She couldn't risk being distracted. Clutching the hems of the front of her dress, Valentine continued on with her pace and only stopped when she faced a seventy-foot wall of stone, carved with strange relics and symbols. By no other means, a dead end.

In a normal being's eyes, that is.

She placed a hand on the cold surface and shut her eyes. A flash of scarlet cut through the darkness. A dizzying feeling came and she could feel air whooshing down her ears. And the next thing she knew, Valentine was already standing on the stone steps of the temple that endless generations of Geass users had oh-so carefully built.

"Father, you called?" Valentine's jaw clenched as she spoke out, her voice calm and smoothly masked to hide the sound of her racing heart.

Charles zi Britannia turned around and the raven-haired Princess' stomach plummeted a few feet down. She knew it was not the Emperor's Geass ability, but Valentine could still feel her fingers twitching in anxiety. Which was ridiculous since she was his daughter. His own flesh and blood. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Wrong. Of course, everything could turn completely around. Charles was different — blood relatives doesn't matter that much to him. Valentine already knew that a long time ago, though it took her a few years to truly realize this.

"Clovis' body has just arrived." His words were strong and clear, truly a person born to have so much authority over people.

"I see." Valentine paused, choosing her words carefully. "Would you like me to manage his funeral? Or do you want me to bury him myself?"

"No, foolish girl." She flinched when he raised his hand, only to have it be waved once in dismissal. "I don't want to be bothered by mundane concerns like that. Clovis might be my son, but he hasn't proven himself worthy. There are people who can attest to that."

Valentine swallowed. "Yes, Father."

"But he did manage to provide information of something interesting."

Valentine ducked her head, not wanting to meet her father's eyes, for fear of having Charles see through all her dauntless and stoic façade. There was silence. Though her sight was settled straight in — focusing more on the cracks on one of the stone floors underneath her feet, Valentine could still feel the heavy weight of his gaze. He was studying her — and for one moment, she thought she was going to falter under his scrutiny. But thank the gods she didn't.

"I heard — " Valentine didn't know why, but she found herself suddenly speaking up, albeit hesitant. "I heard that Clovis was shot by a mere man who's after the crown."

The Emperor didn't even hid his disinterest. "Everyone is after the crown." He tilted his head. "Illiberal things such as rumors don't interest me. I couldn't care less about your brother. My children should know that there are people after your lives ever since the day you began to breathe. It's your own duty to look after yourselves."

"Yes, Father."

Valentine tried hard not to show her ever-growing curiosity. What was the real reason Charles had called her here? Surely, it's not about Clovis' death, isn't it? But no matter, she should wait. A good daughter always waits — no matter how much the time it takes for the truth to come out could kill her.

"Why, Valentine? Do you care so much about Clovis?" She couldn't help but gasp as her head snapped up, directly meeting her Father's violet-eyed stare.

Valentine swallowed but maintained composure. "He's my brother."

"Brother." The way her father had looked at her — his mouth curving into an amusement, Valentine felt anger flare deep down. She knew she was being looked down upon like some sort of toy. He was trying to test her sanity — to see how much she could cope when there's so much deaths around, especially with her blood-stained hands. Valentine felt sick, but she was already used at playing this kind of game.

She merely gave a small, sarcastic laugh. "But no matter, Clovis might be older than me, but he's nothing but a pawn. A useless one, at that."

Valentine shoved any shred of remorse or guilt deep down her throat. Her hands were balling into fists but no — she shouldn't feel anything. Nothing. No sense of conscience, no sense of what's right or wrong. No sense of humanity.

 _But no matter how much I try, I could still feel — even a little bit,_ she couldn't help but think, _I'm human. I will always be human._

"Enough games." Charles suddenly snapped, and for one fearful moment, Valentine thought he had just read her mind. "We're running out of time — and the Order is proceeding with the preparations. I want you to be ready by the time we'll be done."

Valentine nodded, rigid with the sudden grasp of what the Emperor had just said. "Yes, Father."

"As of this time, I will be giving you to Schneizel."

Her eyes widened. "Schneizel?"

"The boy has talents, yes, though of little value. You and your brother will be providing assistance to any of the pitiful Areas that needs it."

Valentine remained rooted on the ground where she stood, speechless and wide-eyed. She couldn't believe what her father just said. Be with Schneizel…that means she's going to be up above the skies — riding on her half-brother's Avalon.

She suddenly felt like she was being set free. Temporarily, yes, but still…free. Valentine would trade anything just to leave Pendragon even for a little while. Indeed, her missions included going out of the capital for a few days — but those only require travel by the Thought Elevators and being escorted farther later on. But Valentine was away for a reason — and those reasons weren't perfectly humane. But this time…it was different.

"I'm going to bring my knight with me." Her words came out like an order more than a request. Because maybe that's what Valentine had truly wanted. There is no way she'll be leaving Alyn behind, no matter how much it'll only make him resume his old post to the Rounds, which wasn't so bad either. But Valentine couldn't imagine going out of Pendragon without him.

It was a selfish request. _Just this time, Alyn. Just this time._

"Suit yourself." Charles then turned his back on her, signalling that it was time for her to leave.

Valentine nodded, her body shaking with relief and excitement. But a part of her forced her to stay calm — to think rationally. This was an odd order, and she knew that there has to be a reason behind this. But another part of her doesn't care. She was going to be free — as of the moment. But it was okay. In fact, it was more than okay.

"Valentine." She stopped dead in her tracks but did not turn around. What was going to happen? For a beat, Valentine felt panicking. Was that a fluke?

"Yes, Father?"

"Do not fail me."

She froze. Fail the Emperor? In what? He didn't exactly give out specific orders, right?

But whatever the reason for that command, Valentine only nodded.

"I won't, Father." She said flatly. "I won't ruin anything."

And she disappeared with a flash of light.

* * *

The delight must've been obvious on her face because once the young princess had stepped out of the corridors and closed the door behind her, Alyn was raising an eyebrow at her direction.

"I assume everything came out okay in the end, huh?" He said, smiling as well.

Consciously, Valentine resumed her normal stoic expression, but the corners of her lips were crooked in slight amusement. "It's a great day."

And it was. All of a sudden, Valentine forgot about Euphemia's departure or even Clovis' death. She knew it was utmost narcissistic of her, but she couldn't help it. It felt as if she was floating — dazed and overwhelmed by what's happening.

But she found herself wishing for the first time, as she walked down the Britannia Palace's halls with Alyn by her side, that nothing could destroy it. Not now, anyway.


	4. Chapter IV - Memories

**Chapter Four**

 _Memories_

The sun overhead was blazing and his back was soaked with sweat, but Lelouch carried on. His legs were shaking from Nunally's weight and from climbing up the many stone steps. He was exhausted, he was tired. He could feel his frail body shaking from fatigue but he paid no heed. The dark-haired boy continued to walk up, no matter how much his mind had screamed he needed rest. Young as he was, he knew he has to do his priorities first. And that priority meant his little sister.

"A shrine?" Nunnally asked, her voice soft and curious.

Lelouch nodded. "Hm. It's the Japanese version of a church."

"Is the Pope the Emperor of Japan?" She asked again.

"No," Lelouch couldn't help but smile at her ponders. "Japan doesn't have an Emperor." For one second, the young boy paused to breathe and continued on at explaining. "The person who gets selected during an election becomes the Prime Minister. It's only by coincidence that Prime Minister Kururugi's personal residence is a shrine."

Nunnally's next words were anything but a curious question, after noticing how often her older brother staggers. She could feel the hard rise and fall of his bony chest, and her brows furrowed, almost hating herself for being such a heavy burden. Maybe she shouldn't eat as much from now on.

"Brother, are you all right?" He was breathing much too heavily now, and the six year-old girl couldn't help but feel worried. "These stairs seem fairly tall."

"This is nothing. I can handle it."

But Lelouch knew otherwise. Back in his princely days, stairs were his enemies. He couldn't run around as much, and it would only slow him down when he and his siblings play tag. What he was doing was torture, climbing up the steep stairs with Nunnally riding on his back. But now, there was no time for complaints or refusals. There wasn't any other way. And Hell has to freeze over before Lelouch would let any Japanese person touch his sister. Nunnally has to rest soon — and the only way up to their safe haven are these elevated steps.

"Ne, Brother. What do you think Sister Valentine is doing now?" The young boy nearly tripped when Nunnally mentioned their sister's name.

 _Sick in bed, as always,_ a part of his mind wanted to say but Lelouch shrugged it off. It sounded too insensitive somehow. But it was the truth. For the past months, Valentine was stricken with a strange illness and was forbidden to see them. The last time he saw her was…was…

"I don't know." He answered honestly after a very long pause. "But I'm certain she's safe."

"You think so? I really hope she's okay, and she'll get well soon enough so she can go visit us here."

Lelouch only made a small sound that signaled his agreement. Nunnally didn't know — yet, anyway. Of how their father had sent them off here in this wasted country to fend for themselves, and certainly, he didn't mention anything about seeing them both again. He knew it was wrong to lie — but if it makes life easier for his younger sister, then he would do it. No matter how hard the gods will punish him for it.

"Hang on, Nunnally. We're nearly there." Lelouch panted, feeling every bit of his energy fade as soon as he caught side of the spacious compound. _Just a little bit more…_

* * *

"Brother, are we there yet?"

Lelouch could only stare at the place given for them to live in, agape and speechless. The young boy expected nothing luxurious — probably a bed, some furniture and all but seeing their so-called "room", the word simple became an understatement.

It was nothing but a small storeroom within the Kururugi Shrine.

The ancestral residence seemed empty and quiet but they dared to knock — or rather, Lelouch did, despite his weariness — and was immediately answered by a kindly servant, who was rather apologetic after explaining Prime Minister Kururugi's absence and saying he'll come back later to settle the matter. Desperate, the young boy had no choice, but to accept any sort of shelter from the family.

It was dark — as most storerooms go. With bare walls and ghastly-looking windows. Everything around them was made of wood though some corners of the room were mangled with dusts and cobwebs. It looked like it never have been cleaned. Lelouch quickly thought that even the servants back at Pendragon never lived in a place like this.

"Y-Y-Yes…" Lelouch nearly choked, realizing how deep they have fallen. From being children of the most powerful Emperor to…this. Strangers. Plain kids stripped of their title and honor.

Nunnally, however, beamed. For a blind girl, Lelouch knew she was excited. "What kind of room is it? How is the new home for Brother and I?"

The former prince fell silent. He couldn't — not to Nunnally —

"It's a wonderful place." He finally said, wincing at the dingy, visible metallic roof and the stacks of hay placed on one corner. "The walls are white like snow, and there are windows with flower decorations."

"Sounds like Euphy's room."

"Yes. But it's a bit small. But since it's just Nunnally and I…" Lelouch fought hard to contain the dismay and sadness in his voice. He knew it was wrong to lie to Nunnally, but he couldn't just let her see this, to let her realize they're all alone now.

"Who's there?" A strong, high voice broke through the dark-haired boy's reverie.

Both Lelouch and Nunnally flinched. It seems as if it came from the floor above.

"You over there, come out." Lelouch found himself saying. He was in no mood to deal with things like this.

"Don't speak so arrogantly." He was surprised to see a young brown-haired boy wearing a traditional Japanese clothing and was glowering at him. "This used to be my room, after all."

"Yours?" Lelouch repeated. Who is he, anyway?

The stranger continued to glare at him, his light-green eyes almost glowing with irritation. "Britannians are so shameless. Do you intend to colonize Japan too?"

"Japan is trying to enforce dominance as well. You enforce sanctions on countries you deal with." The former prince shot back, raising an eyebrow.

As if revealing his true nature, the young brunette flinched, lost for words after hearing Lelouch's sharp statements. "Erm —"

"Japan and Britannia aren't that different from each other."

"Lies!" The boy cut off, his eyes burning with fury.

"They aren't lies! Try asking your father!" Lelouch yelled back, his fingers balling into fists. He was tired — physically and mentally — and yet this boy continues with his ignorant jibes.

"You're a liar! What's this about white walls?" The raven-haired boy cringed when he heard Nunnally gasp in surprise. "Where are the decorated windows in this storeroom —?"

"Stop it!" He screamed. He couldn't see his sister's reaction, for his anger at the stranger was momentarily blinding him from everything.

And with that, Lelouch charged at him without thinking, but quickly fell into the ground as the boy's knuckle connected with his face. And just like that, the former prince collapsed at the stranger's feet, his face reddening from the direct hit.

He thought it was over — but it wasn't. The brunette clambered on top of him before he could stand up and punched him repeatedly in the face, over and over. His fist fell on him like raining concrete, hitting him on the jaw, the nose, and even the eyes.

"How's that, you Britannian bastard?" He growled as he threw blows after blows on Lelouch's face. "Don't look down on the Japanese!"

"S-Stop it!" Lelouch couldn't fight — physically, at least. He knew he was no match for this boy's strength — or even anger.

"You barbarian!"

"Please stop!" Nunnally's pleas cut through the air, hearing the commotion between the two. "I don't know who you are, but I'll do anything you tell me!"

All of a sudden, the boy froze, dumbstruck as he looked at Nunnally. "You…don't tell me you can't see?"

"Yes, so please don't be alarmed. I can't do anything…whether it's fighting or running away…t-that's why…" Her voice was soft, almost at the verge of tears.

"Then…" The brunette's voice trailed off as he slowly came upon the realization. Lelouch could only watch the exchange, as he was still lying on the ground, feeling the pain from his punches.

To his surprise, the boy started to tremble and began looking around frantically, as if panicked. And all of a sudden —

"I-I'm sorry!" He yelled and quickly bolted out of the room.

"Brother, are you all right?" When Lelouch didn't answer, still surprised at the stranger's unexpected reaction, Nunnally became more afraid. "B-Brother?"

He blinked. "Nunnally, I'm okay. It was nothing serious." Another lie, as he grimaced in pain when he tried to stand up. But again, he didn't want her to worry.

"Who was that? He sounded like a child."

"Most likely, Kururugi Suzaku. Prime Minister Kururugi's child."

And that was the first time Lelouch had met his first ever friend — who, later on, would become his worst enemy.

* * *

Lelouch vi Britannia couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

 _"From today on, I will be a student at Ashford Academy. I'm Kururugi Suzaku. Pleased to meet you."_

His whole body tensed. He couldn't believe it. Suzaku is here.

Memories immediately began to swirl into his mind — his childhood, seeing him as a soldier, rescuing him and of course, Suzaku's blatant refusal when he had offered him an alliance. Unconsciously, his fingers curled into a fist, remembering the fury and irritation he had felt back then. Of how often he'd thought Suzaku was foolish to turn his proposal down.

"He was a suspect, right?"

"In that case with Prince Clovis."

"Teacher said he was wrongfully accused."

"But he got caught, so there must be something suspicious about him, right?"

"He's not a terrorist, is he?"

"Ah um — n-no…"

"Of course he isn't. The school would at least do a background check."

Voices and whispers filled the spacious classroom as most of his classmates continued to shamelessly stare at the young brunette — Lelouch could even make out Nina, Rivalz, and Shirley's conversation. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and stood up, unable to keep on not acknowledging him. Though his back was turned, he could feel Suzaku's burning gaze, following his every move.

Perfect.

He walked out, and just as Lelouch had passed by the door, he stopped. With a small look, he raised his collar — trying to make it appear as an unconscious as possible, so as not to ruin the signal. And he left, knowing his friend would follow soon after.

* * *

"It's been seven years since I used this signal." Lelouch immediately spoke up, straightening up his collar as he did so.

Suzaku grinned, walking closer to where he stood. "'Let's talk on the rooftop'."

"Yeah."

A pause. Then —

"I'm glad you're safe." His voice was gentle — an obvious sign of relief.

Lelouch leaned back against the railing. "It's all thanks to you. If you hadn't covered for me…" He mentally shuddered, recalling the moment where Suzaku's superior didn't even hesitate to shoot him from behind.

"I just returned a favor from seven years ago."

Lelouch nodded and transferred his gaze below to the ground. As if remembering something, Suzaku blinked and suddenly asked

"What about that girl? Remember? The one from the capsule?"

He didn't even hide the concern in his voice. Suzaku was referring to the green-haired young woman — and of course, that only meant C.C. But as far as Lelouch was concerned, she was only a stranger to him, a mere innocent civilian, nothing more. "We got separated during the confusion caused by the battle. Wouldn't you know more?"

Lelouch kept his ears open, waiting for some sort of information. Suzaku might have a clue — and that would be a problem, though how little it would be.

But Lelouch breathed out a sigh of relief as the brunette only shook his head. "No…I guess no one other than His Highness' personal unit knew."

"I see."

He believed him. Lelouch knew that Suzaku was better at honesty than he was. And it was one of the qualities that made him a good friend.

"Uh…" He looked up to see Suzaku with such a hesitant face. "Is it okay to call you Lelouch?"

"On record, the former me is dead." Lelouch explained, letting the breeze pick up a few strands of his dark hair. "I'm going by Lelouch Lamperouge now."

"I see."

"How's the court martial coming along?" He asked instead, trying to divert the subject somewhere else — and not on the past. "And to be enrolled here…"

To that, Suzaku's face suddenly lit up. "I was surprised too. I didn't think you would be here, Lelouch. There's a certain person who is seeing the investigation be carried out properly. That person said 'if you're seventeen, you should go to school'."

"Then, I'm glad." The brunette could only stare as Lelouch stood up straight, his violet eyes as intense as always.

"Glad that what?"

"That you're safe with us."

"Us?"

For a split-second, a full smile formed unto the raven-haired boy's lips. "Suzaku, are you free this afternoon? If it's okay, I want you to meet someone. I bet she'll be more than happy to meet you."

* * *

The door suddenly slid open, revealing Nunnally dressed in her usual Ashford Academy uniform, and was being wheeled in by Sayoko.

"I'm back, Brother." She announced happily.

Lelouch looked up from the book he was currently reading and stood up. "Welcome back, Nunnally, Sayoko. I have a present for you today."

"Oh, I wonder what it is." His sister eagerly replied, smiling in excitement.

Lelouch flashed her a smile and held a finger on his lips, motioning this to Sayoko, who tilted her head curiously but didn't say anything. Looking at his left, he ushered someone in — and Suzaku stepped out of the shadows, looking nervous as he settled his gaze on Nunnally's still form.

The raven-haired young man could only watch his friend swallow and head towards his sister and bent down. But before he could do anything, Suzaku shot Lelouch a hesitant look. He only gave him an encouraging nod and with that, the brunette placed a gentle hand on Nunnally's.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she immediately clasped a small hand over Suzaku's large ones, instantly knowing who her mysterious visitor is. "These hands…" She could only gasp, fingers trailing over his tanned skin.

Both Lelouch and Suzaku smiled, relishing the joy on Nunnally's face.

"I'm so happy." She whispered, as tears began to fall from her closed eyes. "You're safe, after all!" Small, delicate sobs began to rack her body as Nunnally clutched their twined hands closer to her face.

Suzaku smiled too. "It's been a while, Nunnally."

* * *

Later that night, Lelouch could only stare at the ceiling.

At the sight of his father's familiar face, he could feel the anger rising up again. So many memories — so much want for revenge. He knew that the Emperor couldn't care less about Clovis' death, but merely, saw the devastation as a sign of weakness among his citizens. And now, with Suzaku appearing again…Lelouch felt that there was something coming up. He couldn't tell what it was — but he was certain it was something big. And something that would later, take him back to the past.

"It's coming back." He found himself whispering.

A soft rustle was heard, and another voice spoke up. "What's coming back?"

"It's none of your business." Lelouch snapped, to which she merely chuckled.

"I told you that mistakes would eventually come to haunt you — especially wrongdoings done in that past. That's why a lot of people try to do as little as possible." C.C.'s voice sounded indifferent — though quiet. "Are you scared, Lelouch?"

"You've taken my bed. The least you can do is to stop talking and go to sleep."

"Are you refusing to answer my questions, boy?"

"I've learned from the best."

He could feel her smirk, even in the dark. And all of a sudden, everything became quiet, except the rhythmic, steady, beat of her breathing. Lelouch thought that the green-haired woman had already fallen asleep.

Until —

"You shouldn't worry, Lelouch. After all, you've got a lot to fight for, don't you?"

The raven-haired young man didn't reply, and instead, turned his back against her direction. Even the lights were off, he could feel C.C.'s gaze, and for some reasons, it made him uncomfortable.

But she was right. Nunnally is worth fighting for, isn't it?

And of course, Valentine — her deceased sister. Remembering her face, it only made Lelouch's chest feel much heavier.

 _They're going to pay, Valentine, Nunnally. I swear it. I'm going to destroy Britannia once and for all._


	5. Chapter V - Summon

**Chapter Five**

 _Summon_

Valentine burst out of her room, startling a couple of passing palace servants along the way.

She was excited — almost bouncing on her feet as she ran past the halls of the Aries Imperial Villa, a huge smile on her face. It was a lovely day too, with the skies a beautiful hue and the air smelled sweet, just like those flowers blooming in the gardens.

Lelouch had promised to teach her how to ride the horses. It was going to be Valentine's first time, and it was pretty exciting — since Mother loved riding her stallion so much, she wanted to be like her too. And it was a good thing, since she gave her consent. With that, the young princess sped up faster, knowing that her older brother was waiting by the stables.

And when she arrived, wearing white riding pants, white tunic and her long hair in a ponytail — Lelouch was also clothed in the same style, but Valentine was surprised when she found out that he wasn't alone.

Their half-siblings were there. Euphy was chatting with Lelouch, Cornelia was there too, but the violet-haired teenager was standing on the sidelines, probably acting as her younger sister's chaperone. And Schneizel was already seated atop a horse, speaking to Clovis.

"Val!" She looked up when she heard her brother call out to her. He was grinning, at least and waved her to come over.

Valentine approached them, cautious. "Hello."

"Hi Valentine!" Euphy greeted back, beaming. "I'm going to ride horses today too! Big sis Cornelia's gonna teach me how!"

Oh, so Lelouch isn't the one teaching her? Though it sounds mean, Valentine felt relieved. She nodded earnestly, smiling a little too.

"Euphy, let's go." Cornelia called out, already holding one of the horses' reigns.

"Coming!" And after another smile, Euphemia ran towards her sisters' direction, her pink hair flying behind her.

A smile remained plastered on Lelouch's face as he turned to his younger sister. "So? Let's go?"

It's obvious that her brother was in a good mood and Valentine couldn't help but grin back as well. And from day to noon, the raven-haired princess was having fun, because Lelouch was right behind her, whispering instructions into her ear and she couldn't stop thinking of how lucky she is for having such a brother — though he might be a big bully to her most of the time.

Until —

"Getting pretty good there, aren't you, Euphemia?" Lelouch teased.

Euphemia, who was riding just a few feet in front of them, gave him a look from over her shoulder. "Cornelia's a good teacher. How are you doing, Val?"

"Fine." Valentine replied, keeping her eyes focused on the path in front of them.

"I'm a good teacher too, you know." Her brother boasted, suddenly smiling in mischief. "Why don't we race?"

Valentine's eyes widened since Lelouch and her were only riding the same horse. "Brother, wait —"

But her words were cut short when Euphemia gave a gleeful yell and flicked the reigns, her horse galloping faster. And soon enough, her brother followed suit, the wind rushing through both their ears.

"You can't beat me!" Their half-sister's yell echoed throughout the woods.

"Oh, I will!" Lelouch gave a hearty laugh as they sped even faster.

"Brother — we're too fast! S-slow dow —" Valentine couldn't even finish her words when their steed suddenly hit a rocky path. Her grip on the leather reigns slipped, and the next thing she felt was pain.

The impact when her bones had hit the ground, it was almost deafening. She heard someone scream — Euphemia, probably — when she tumbled down into the dirt, the sharp, jagged rocks scraping her skin. She was falling, falling — and she cried out when she hit her head on something hard.

The thud of horses reached her ears and she felt hands all over her.

"Val! Val — I'm so sorry, are you okay?" It was Lelouch, and his voice no longer contained any trace of joy anymore.

"She's hurt badly. We have to take her to a doctor." It was Cornelia — who was assessing her injuries.

Valentine was hurt all over. But her mind had screamed she had to get up. She wanted to go home. Her heart felt heavy and all she wanted to do was cry. Her hair and clothes were soaked in sticky mud — and she felt something run on the back of her head, and she wasn't sure if it was wet dirt or blood. Shakily, she stood up, knowing she was scraped and bruised all over.

"Oh God — what happened?" Clovis' voice surfaced out and he and Schneizel were frozen to where they all gathered. "Valentine —"

"Valentine, come on. You have to see a doctor." Schneizel urged, getting down from his horse.

But Valentine shook her head, quiet tears falling down her face. Her legs suddenly started walking — she didn't know where she was going. But all she knew was that she wanted to go home.

"Val, I'm —" Lelouch tried to hold her arm but she slapped it away.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed.

He looked hurt. "I'm so sorry I —"

"I hate you! You wanted me hurt! I told you to stop but…but…" Valentine was shaking, sobs racking her thin frame. "You don't love me, do you, brother? You're always so mean to me — but you're always so nice to Euphemia! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Crying was hurting her broken rib cage, but Valentine didn't care. She felt devastated, hurt and angry. All those emotions she was bottling up for so long — it was all coming out in sharp, hurtful words towards her brother. She hated him, she hated him for choosing Euphemia over her. She hated him for being so mean. She hated him. She hated Lelouch.

"Val." She felt a tender touch on her shoulder as she wailed, covering her face with her hands. But when she looked up, it wasn't Lelouch — but it was Schneizel. "Come on, I'll take you to Marianne. So stop crying, okay?"

Her lip trembled as she nodded. But before she could even look at Lelouch's grief-stricken face, Valentine felt her vision swimming over. She suddenly couldn't breathe — she heard Euphemia and Cornelia's panicked voices, and even her brother's cry.

But the last thing she felt was her body hitting the ground again, and the world disappeared into a swirling, black darkness.

And when she woke up, Valentine was stupefied to found three figures standing by the foot of her bed, looking at her. One of them, a dark-haired woman of such impeccable beauty, wearing a divine-looking white dress, almost a resembling a fairy. She slowly sat up, and her head suddenly spun as she did so.

"Mother?"

Marianne smiled, looking down at her. "Are you okay, darling? Are you feeling much better?"

"My head hurts." Her voice sounded hoarse.

But much to her surprise, the Emperor consort sat beside her, smoothing her hair. "Ssh. Everything will be fine, Valentine."

She didn't know what that meant, but the young princess was suddenly distracted by the sight of her father right beside the platinum-haired boy he had met weeks ago.

"Are you sure she will be of much help, brother?" Piped in the young boy, studying Valentine critically.

"You've said it so yourself." Her father's deep, powerful voice filled Valentine's room. "She is fearful, yes. But that can be helped. Can you see her?"

All of a sudden, Valentine found herself clutching her mother's hand, feeling scared. What are they talking about?

"Yes. I can see her potential. Her mind is somewhat…unnatural. She's still young, there are a lot of things that could happen. She's going to be a great aid to our plans." His eyes flicked to Marianne. "Are you okay with our plan, Marianne? You're free to voice out anything you want."

Marianne only giggled. "What are you talking about V.V.? This could help Valentine. I know she can take it. She's got both mine and Charles' blood, so there's nothing to worry."

For some reason, Valentine found herself shaking. They were all talking so strange, so serious. Her heart was hammering. "M-Mother…"

"Hmm?" To add much to her fright, Marianne suddenly placed her hands on both Valentine's shoulders, as if trying to make her sit still. "Don't you worry Val, after this, you'll be of great help to me and your father. Wouldn't that be good?"

"B-but —"

Charles nodded to the boy. "Do it, brother."

"Mother! W-wait! What are you —"

Valentine started to struggle out of her mother's iron-like grip. She was afraid — what are they going to do?

"Stay still, Valentine! Be a good girl now!"

"No! I c-can't! Mother please —"

But the boy was already tilting her face up, and she squirmed, trying to get his fingers away from her face, but failed.

"Valentine vi Britannia," He said, but his voice resonated not on her ears but on the inside of her head. "You shall now embrace the power of kings."

And the Geass sigil flashed before her eyes.

* * *

Valentine closed her eyes as streams of water dripped down from her hair, wetting her face and body. Fresh steam poured out of the hot shower and she leaned back against the cold wall, feeling every bit of her skin get soaked.

Beyond the blurry walls of her bathroom, she could make out Alyn's silhouette, who was sprawled on her couch, a book in hand. She sighed, knowing that even the time to take a soak on her tub even has its limits. It's been days since her last meeting with her father, days since she got word of her so-called freedom. But still, Schneizel hadn't called yet, which was quite intriguing.

"Princess Euphemia called, by the way." Alyn suddenly announced, his voice clear yet cool. Valentine used to think of how much she loved listening to his voice. It wasn't as deep as any noblemen she had met. Instead, it sounded soothing and clean — almost like the wind.

"And?" Valentine added, turning off the shower and sank even deeper into her tub.

"And I told her the same thing you wanted me to tell her — that you're busy."

The princess only hummed in approval. She knew Alyn could see her form, if only blurry and surreal — naked as she was she didn't care. And she knew he didn't either. There was no time for modesty, Alyn isn't the type to get flustered by a woman's body. In fact, it seems like he doesn't get flustered at all.

"Whatever you're doing is churlish. But then again, you've said it before — you don't like Euphemia, but you seemed so affected by her absence back then." Alyn said aloud, his eyes flicking at the raven-haired princess' silhouette.

Valentine hugged her knees closer to her chest. "I said too much back there, didn't I? But the farther Euphemia is from me, the better. God knows what I can do if I…"

Her personal knight said nothing, and instead, sprawled along the couch. Alyn reminds her of a jungle cat sometimes — quiet, lithe, and lazy.

It seems that their conversation had just stopped short. Valentine heaved a sigh and got out of the tub. Her fingers managed to find a towel and as soon as she caught her reflection unto the full-length mirror, the princess stopped.

 _Valentine, when you look at the mirror, what do you see?_ , It was Mother's voice, gentle and soft as she held the young raven-haired princess by the shoulders and made her look at her own image.

Young Valentine, vain and proud as she was before, merely gave herself a haughty smirk. _I see a princess fit to marry a prince. In that way, I can help Father. In that way, I can help Britannia prosper._

Marianne merely chuckled and gave her an odd smile, _Silly, you don't know, do you? You're going to help Charles soon enough — very soon, in fact._

Young as she was, Valentine didn't know what that meant.

Her fingers clenched into a fist as she stared, memories flooding her mind again, emptying her brain of thought. Staring at her own indigo eyes — her mother's eyes — what does she see now? Still a princess good enough to marry a handsome prince?

No. She couldn't see anything but a murderer, a liar, and a truly selfish coward. If anything, her fingers should be slicked by blood of the many people she had killed. What Valentine wondered was she didn't feel any guilt or some kind of remorse. She felt empty — as if her humanity was nearly losing its edge. Maybe she's insane. Maybe she had turned into a madwoman. But that already happened years ago. But that time have been better — she was locked up in a room, all alone with her misery and constant battle with the power her uncle had given her.

The Geass sigil merely glowed in both her eyes. A perfect Geass — as V.V. would like to call it. Which was only the correct term since no other than her father and herself could control such power.

 _The power that's enough to change the world._

Val shook her head and tore her gaze away. Carefully, she grabbed the dress she was supposed to wear. She refused to have handmaidens or attendants, though many of her siblings had insisted. As far as she was concerned, she can do everything on her own.

"Alyn," Val called as she desperately tried to pull the stuck zipper at the back of her dress. "Come here. Help me up."

She heard the rustle of fabric and her knight's light footsteps. And the next thing she knew, dark-haired Alyn was helping her zip it up.

"Thanks." She told him as soon as he was finished.

Alyn didn't say anything as they both stood there, each staring at their own reflections.

"Val," The young knight finally broke the silence. "What are you going to do now?"

She looked at him, raising her head to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Don't be blinded by what everything the Emperor has promised. And what you're going to have soon is only temporary — you're still chained to him. All your life, are you going to be a pawn —"

"I make decisions for myself, Alyn." Valentine replied harshly. "I know what I'm doing. I know how to get what I want — even if that means clinging on to the promise of a man like my father."

"And you're willing to destroy anyone as long as you get what you want, is that it?"

She turned her heel and walked away, not even making the impression of responding back.

Valentine could hear the disbelief in Alyn's voice. "Really, Valentine. You're becoming more and more like Charles."

She stopped dead in her tracks, and without even turning around to face her knight, she merely replied "To defeat the enemy, one must become like the enemy. As part of the Rounds, you know that, don't you?"

Valentine headed out to the door, leaving Alyn standing there, studying her disappearing figure critically.

"And oh, Alyn." She paused again. "Don't call the Emperor like that — he has ears and eyes everywhere. I can't afford losing my knight."

Alyn's voice was like steel. "Yes, Your Highness."

As soon as she was out into the hallway, Valentine's eyes fell down to the ground. Yes, she and Alyn were friends — he was her only comrade. But sometimes, even he can't understand her. She can trust him — but not completely. Alyn was loyal to her, but if time may come for him to choose, he'll chose the empire and not the princess he had been serving for how many years. Val knew his reasons, and she could understand. Like her, Alyn Crawford had been through a lot.

"Your Majesty." Valentine looked up to see a bowing servant standing a good few feet from her. "You are hereby summoned."

Her brows furrowed. "By whom?"

"A video call, Princess. From His Highness Prince Schneizel."

* * *

If there is one word to describe Valentine's relationship with her half-brother Schneizel, it would be amicable. They weren't close, but ever since her siblings' exile in the past seven years, he was the only one who constantly checks on her.

But it doesn't mean Val trusts him — she trusts nobody. Maybe, except Alyn.

"Schneizel. It's been a long time." Valentine said as she sat on a desk chair on one of the large offices in the Villa.

Schneizel smiled through the screen. "Valentine. You're looking great."

"Thank you. And so do you."

It wasn't a lie. Valentine knew her half-brother had grown popular because of his capacity to lead, but his good looks had helped him earn his name as well. Fair-haired and violet-eyed, it was a wonder why he hadn't gotten married yet.

"I think you already know why I called?" He asked, his face pleasant and open.

"If it's something in connection with what Father had told you, then yes." She paused, and then added "I mean, it's okay with you, no? If I could tag along?"

"It's no problem. And I have agreed to this not because His Highness had ordered me to, but because you'll be a great in governing, Valentine. You know how much I admire the way you carry out strategies."

Valentine flashed him a side smile. "But still, I never win any of our chess games, brother."

"That was purely entertainment. Though when things get serious, I turn to you for advice."

It was half-true, though Valentine felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickle. Yes, she was friendly with Schneizel, but she always had suspicions of him. Unlike other people, she couldn't read him without any help from her Geass. He was good, in that way, hiding his plans.

And it's going to be a problem.

However, amidst the ever-growing curiosity behind both her father and her half-brother's plans, Valentine smiled. "You flatter me, Schneizel. But thank you."

He chuckled, but after a moment, his face suddenly turned serious. "Currently, I'm heading back to Pendragon — just in time for Clovis' funeral. Father wanted our presence, but it seems our sisters and other brothers are too busy, so it's just me and Odysseus. Will I be seeing you there?"

Valentine shook her head. She have heard of her late brother's supposed funeral — and it was going to be filmed and shown worldwide. And there is no way she'll let anyone know of her existence — not yet, anyway.

"I can't. I have things to do too — Father's orders. I'm sorry." She looked back at her half-brother solemnly.

"I understand. But it's good to know that you're doing fine. I'm going to pick you up right after the funeral. Will that be okay?"

Val nodded. "I'll see you when you get here."

"Take care of yourself, Valentine."

"You too, Schneizel."

And the line went dead.

Valentine leaned back against her seat, face contorted into a serious mask. She have always been careful around Schneizel — though some of his actions may appear genuine, there are times she grew distrustful around him too. Being a man of mystery works in his favour, and Val always remembered how he is hailed throughout the Britannian Empire. Schneizel is The White Prince.

Or either, The Cold Blooded Strategist.

* * *

Clovis' smiling face in his portrait looked more like a banner, instead of a background. A banner of foolishness, as far as Valentine was concerned. He was merely a symbol of utter carelessness and lack of good judgement.

And it amazed Valentine, of how Britannian citizens come to admire him.

Seated on the many thrones placed alongside the huge podium were her older brothers and sisters. Valentine knew who they are, but she doesn't give a damn. They're all the same to her. From afar, she could spot Schneizel's blond hair. It seemed he made it in time, though.

"People are not equal. Those who are born fleet of foot. Those who are born beautiful. Those whose parents are poor. Those who have weak bodies. Birth, growth, and talent. All humans are different. That's right — people are born to be different!" The Emperor's voice were powerful — ruling out thousands of military members who stood in front of one of, if not, the strongest man in the world. "That's why people fight and compete with each other. From there, evolution takes place. Inequality is not evil. Equality itself is evil. What of the E.U. who advocate equal rights? That only leads to a mob rule where everyone seeks to improve nothing but their own reputation. What of the Chinese Union who advocate equal wealth? That only leads to a mass of lazy fools. But we, Britannia, are not like that. We fight, compete, and continue to evolve! Britannia alone is moving forward towards the future. My son, Clovis' death, is proof that Britannia is continuing to evolve. We must fight! Compete, take, possess, control! Beyond that lies the future! All hail Britannia!"

And the great hall echoed with a thousand voices shouting the empire's name.

Valentine, who was leaning back and watching by the side lines, merely turned around and walked away.

There isn't an inch of holy in the Empire that her ancestors' had built. Everything around was acquired through force and bloodshed. And with that power, comes a want for even more power. With that, families turned against one another. Flesh against flesh. Blood against blood. It was madness. It was carnage.

Every wall in this capital was built by nothing but lies and deceit.

And she became a part of insanity, as well. With her blood stained hands, through her eyes that holds the Geass, she was no different from her father. She was no different from a butcher.

After all, there really isn't any choice, isn't there?

Queens or princesses becomes either butchers or the meat.

And it's already been made clear which path Valentine had chosen to take.


	6. Chapter VI - Area 11

**Chapter Six**

 _Area 11_

"Clovis painted all of these?" Euphemia li Britannia asked, staring up at the portrait of the family of the dark-haired woman — the late Lady Marianne vi Britannia — along with all her children.

"Yes."

She placed a slender palm on a certain painting with a soft expression on her face and murmured "What gentle colors. So this is what he was like."

The Sub-Viceroy of Area 11 and the Fourth Princess of the Britannian Imperial Family closed her eyes, feeling the bridges and bumps of the dried paint. Euphemia heaved out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, as if relishing any memory that the work of art could give about her deceased brother, of whom the pink-haired royalty didn't spend as much time with. She didn't know all of her siblings, much less be friends with. But Euphemia could recall playing with him — and yet, years passed and responsibilities took Clovis under its wing, and her too, as of now.

"Would you like to see the other paintings too, Your Highness? The bigger portraits are all displayed just a few feet away." The attendant informed her.

Euphemia withdrew her hand and nodded. "Yes, if you please."

With a smile, the servant led her towards another painted wall which was just across the room, where another batch of paintings were waiting for them. Euphemia's eyes were instantly drawn to one portrait that was hung right in the middle, which was bigger by size against the others. A small gasp escaped her lips as huge, indigo eyes stared back at her.

It was a portrait of her half-sister Valentine.

This was painted probably when she was twelve or thirteen — based on how short and skinny she was back then. The young princess was wearing an ivory floor-length dress made of light silk and tulle, her eyes boring straight at the viewer.

She looked like she was looking right at her.

Euphemia remembered Clovis asking his siblings to lend him a few hours of their time — to paint them. That was when the prince had come to a realization that his skill might be enough to get noticed by their father. Euphy never really got her turn, but Valentine must have. The image was painted at the Aries Imperial Villa's gardens, and the dark-haired princess was only standing up, her arms at her sides and looking extremely grave and…empty.

This was her age when Euphemia and the other Britannian children noticed sudden changes on Valentine days after her accident. No one — not even Lelouch or Nunnally could decipher what was wrong. They couldn't explain why she rarely never plays with them anymore. They couldn't explain why she almost never smiles at anyone's jokes. They couldn't explain the fact that Valentine looked…different. It was as if life was sucked out of her soul. Her violet eyes, which used to sparkle with so much innocence and eagerness, looked so hollow and empty.

For a long time, Euphemia finally figured it out.

Valentine simply changed.

* * *

As soon as Euphemia spotted Valentine's dark tresses fanning softly from behind her as she walked, she quickly let out a gleeful yell.

"Val!"

Valentine's small figure stopped. But she didn't turn around. By her side, her month-old puppy she later named Balthazar — a gift from one of her Marianne's friends —bounded towards Euphemia, and the pink-haired princess immediately bent down to welcome him into her arms. But after a few minutes of scratching and cooing over Val's pet, Euphy noticed that her half-sister still didn't even face her, let alone talk.

"Val?" She repeated, eyes blinking innocently. "Are you all right?"

She saw her fists were clenched, as if she was struggling against something. "I'm fine." But her voice sounded oddly strained and her back remained facing her.

"Oh. Um," Euphemia stood up, ignoring Balthazar's soft sniffs for more petting. "I um…"

Euphy didn't know why she kept stammering. The girl she was talking to was just Valentine — Lelouch's younger sister, her half-sibling, and apparently, one of her closest friends. She didn't know why her heart was hammering hard against her chest. She didn't know why her eyes were cast down unto the floor as if she couldn't meet Val's eyes. And Euphemia certainly didn't know why she feels guilt every time she sees her. That's probably because she was also responsible for Valentine limping slightly as she walked down the halls of the palace. And she was also the reason why she and Lelouch aren't that close anymore…especially these days…

 _"You don't love me, do you, brother? You're always so mean to me — but you're always so nice to Euphemia! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"_

Euphemia winced at the sound of Val's cries inside her head. Shame flooded through her.

"Is something wrong, Euphemia?" Valentine's voice snapped the princess back to reality and she couldn't help but be surprised to see her dark-haired sibling already looking back at her.

A month had already passed and Euphemia rarely sees her half-sister anymore. Her mother said that it's because Valentine was becoming more and more sickly after her accident, all the more reason she has to be confined into her room. Even Lelouch admitted that he couldn't even visit her — for both Marianne and the Emperor himself did not allow it. So it's a rare sight for her to see Val these days.

"N-nothing." Euphemia forced a smile, only for it to appear shaky and nervous. "So um, I invited Lelouch and Nunna-chan for a sleepover tonight and I was hoping that you…that you, um, could come. We could play — like we all used to! I mean — you can go, right?"

"I don't know…" Valentine answered with a small frown on her face. Euphemia noted that she appeared to be even more thin and wan. There's no doubt — she _is_ sick. "Mother says I can go anywhere as long as —" Her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying and stopped herself just in time.

"As long as?"

Val shook her head doubtfully. "I don't know." She said again.

Euphemia swallowed. Her throat suddenly felt very dry, and all of a sudden, she wanted to smack herself on the head. She had thought that inviting Valentine over for some little bonding session would make things okay again — that it could help ease the rift between her and her half-siblings. For some reason, the pink-haired princess hung her head in shame, fighting the urge not to choke on the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes. She can't cry. Not in front of Val. She had done too much to hurt her half-sister already.

"Euphy?" Val asked again, worry coating every word.

Euphemia raised her head to look at her and she was surprised to see Val smiling a bit.

"I can go." The dark-haired princess answered, albeit reluctantly, as if still hesitating whether to agree or not. "If…if that will make you happy, yes?"

Euphy's heart soared, and like sunlight piercing through the endless dark clouds of guilt and shame, happiness flooded through her. Was this it? Was this the beginning she was looking for? Maybe this day isn't so bad after all. Slowly, her lips curved into a smile. But it doesn't end there. It started like a face of sheer relief, then of happiness, then of excitement.

"Yes! Yes, it will!" Euphy exclaimed, nodding eagerly. And without warning, she reached over and clasped Valentine's hands in hers. "Thank you, Val! I promise you, you won't regret it! We'll have lots of fun — we'll play like we used to. And we'll do each other's hair — maybe I could finally braid yours? I spent a lot of time practicing on big sister Cornelia's hair. And — and Lelouch and you and Nunnally could go…"

"Like we used to…" Valentine found herself whispering amidst her half-sister's cheerful plans.

" — and maybe we could — Valentine? Is-is everything okay?" She asked nervously, peering under her lashes since Euphemia swore she saw a look of regret flashing across the other princess' features. Is she changing her mind?

Val smiled and shook her head, finally bending down to pick up Balthazar. "No, no. Everything's fine. I'll go. Thank you, Euphemia. I'll see you tonight."

And without any other further goodbyes, Valentine briskly walked away from the hall, her dog in her arms, leaving Euphemia to only watch her leave, her mind bombarded with a thousand unanswered questions.

Euphemia spent the whole day wondering, trying to convince herself that Valentine was all right. That she's probably just tired. All day, she busied herself thinking of any excuses that could explain Val's behavior in their earlier conversation. But Euphemia knew too, that deep in the back of her mind, she knew that there was something strange around Valentine — something that felt so eerie and strange and…powerful.

Or maybe she was just imagining things. Yes, that's probably it.

Or…was she?

* * *

Nunnally was giggling, running around Euphemia's room while a half-panting Lelouch was chasing her.

"Hold it, Nunnally!" Lelouch said, his face red from all the running. "You won't be able to wake up tomorrow morning if you don't go to bed now."

"I'm not sleepy!" Answered the child as she giggled. "It's rare to stay at Euphy's! I want to play some more!"

"H-Hey!"

Euphemia looked up from her book as she smiled at the sight of the two. "I don't mind."

"I promised Mom I'll take care of you." Lelouch grumbled. "So listen —" He let out a triumphant cheer when he finally managed to catch the squirming Nunnally into his arms.

Euphemia's smile went wider, as she watched the two siblings laughing, as they lie on their backs on the thick carpeted floor. But it soon disappeared when her eyes skimmed over the clock that hung on her room's walls. It was already ten in the evening, and Valentine was nowhere to be found. Her heart lurched, wondering if she will indeed show up.

But Valentine told her she would. And Euphy believed in her. Because Valentine is the kind of person who does things and really does them, either promises or favors. She once told her that she hated letting people down, to make them wait for nothing. And the pink-haired princess admired her half-sister for that.

"Hey, Euphemia…" Lelouch called, and when she glanced his way, he looked a bit…sad. "Is Val coming?"

Euphemia knew it breaks Lelouch's heart to ask her of his own sister's whereabouts. He was the older brother — someone that Val should depend on, someone that's supposed to know where she is or what she does. Euphy felt a pinch on her chest, remembering Lelouch's bitter confession about he never had gotten to talk to Valentine properly after the accident.

"Euphy?" Even Nunnally stood up, her tiny face hopeful. "Big sister Val is coming…right?"

But before Euphemia could open her mouth, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. Instantly, Lelouch sprang up and bolted towards the entrance, with both Nunnally and Euphy hot on his heels. And when the door was pulled open, Valentine's figure appeared.

Euphemia could tell something was off. Valentine looked wrong. Her face was red and her lashes looked wet — it was obvious that she went through a round of crying. But instead of looking devastated, Valentine was shifting from foot to foot, trying her best to smile. But she only looked nervous.

"Um…hello." Val greeted quietly.

"Val!" It was Nunnally who dashed in first, who immediately pounced and gave her own sister a fierce hug. "Val — I missed you, big sister!"

Euphemia followed suit, and though a bit hesitant, Lelouch joined in too. And soon enough, Valentine found herself being the center of their so-called group hug. It felt warm, solid. It felt great. But instead of feeling the sense of belonging, the sense of being a part of the group, little did the other knew that she only felt more isolated. More…different.

But maybe Euphy and Lelouch felt that too, because when they pulled away, they noticed that Val didn't even bother to raise her arms to hug them all back.

So as soon as Valentine had stepped into the room, Lelouch took a step forward.

"Val, I'm really —" He blurted out.

"It's fine." Valentine cut in before he could finish, her voice oddly sharp as she strode towards the huge couch that lie beyond Euphemia's bed. "Don't worry, Lelouch. It's fine."

Euphemia held Nunnally as she watched the two, her eyes not missing the fact that Lelouch had winced at what Val had said.

 _Lelouch,_ she thought, _she called him Lelouch._

Not brother. Not Lelou. Euphy could barely recall the time that Val addressed her older brother like that.

"But I —"

"I told you — it's _fine._ " She whirled and looked at him straight in the eye. "Don't apologize."

Lelouch kept swallowing, and for the first time, the pink-haired royal could only stare at the sibling's serious exchange. Everything was silent, even Nunnally was quiet. _This is wrong, this shouldn't be happening._ Everything was supposed to be okay. Euphemia got this whole thing planned out. They were all supposed to be having a good time — not…not this!

Until Valentine sighed, a hand on her forehead. "I'm sorry, too. It's — it's my fault, brother. It's just…my head hurts. I think I'm going to lie down for a while. Maybe we could talk tomorrow?" And as if a means of an apology, she flashed them all a tired smile before curling up on the furniture.

Euphemia stared at Val's back, which was facing them, silent and surprised. She then casted a glance across Lelouch, who was just as speechless as she was. But before any of them could recover from what just happened, it was Nunnally who spoke up, interrupting their confused thoughts.

"Say, Euphy, what's this?" She asked, pointing at the large figuring that hung on the wall.

Lelouch walked towards it, his brows furrowing. "This is… isn't this mother's commemorative knighthood plate?"

It was. Well, it indeed is a plate — but special, by all means. It was ringed blue, with Marianne's face and the Knights' crest stamped on the corner.

 _Thou, Marianne, art hereby dubbed knight._

 _The Holy Empire of Britannia, 88th Emperor, Charles zi Britannia_

Euphy smiled and nodded. "I asked Cornelia if I could have it. I think it's just lovely."

It probably was interesting to her half-siblings, because even Val sat up, looking at the plate and at them.

Nunnally let out an awed expression, carefully picking it up and holding it in her hands. "Brother, I want this plate."

"You can't have that." Lelouch said quickly. "We're not supposed to keep any commemorative artifacts."

His younger sister pouted, then turned to Euphemia with big, pleading eyes.

"Euphy…" Nunnally begged.

Euphemia gulped, a bit uncertain whom to side. "Um…well.."

But Lelouch marched over and snatching it out of her hands. "I said you can't have it, Nunnally. This belongs to Euphy."

"But —" She refused to give it up and the whole thing turned into some sort of strange tug-of-war, with the two Britannia siblings squabbling over the plate.

"Enough already! Give that back." Lelouch said, scowling.

"You're not fair! You always treat Euphy better!"

"I-I do not! That's quite enough. Now, let go!"

All of a sudden, the plate slipped out of their fingers and crashed towards the floor, shattering into two large pieces. Both siblings froze, but Lelouch quickly recovered.

"I'm sorry Euphy!" He exclaimed. "Nunnally, apologize at once!"

Nunnally was crying, and in between tears, she said "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Euphy!"

Everything was silent except for the young brunette's sobs. But to everyone's surprise — including Valentine's — Euphemia clapped her hands and smiled.

"I'm glad!" She said, beaming.

Lelouch stared at her. "But it's broken! It has no meaning or value left."

"But this way, Nunnally and I can have it at the same time." Euphemia kneeled down and picked up one broken piece, reaching it towards Nunnally. "Also, Nunnally won't be breaking any rules, right? So, here you go, Nunna."

With tears still in her eyes, agape and surprised, Nunnally took it and without warning, she pulled Euphemia closer and kissed her on the cheek.

Hours passed, and the so-called slumber party went on smoothly — they did all the things they could, with Valentine spending the entire time asleep rather than awake. And soon enough, the trio collapsed unto the hosts' enormous bed in exhaustion before they even knew it.

But what Euphemia didn't know, as she curled up on her bed altogether with Lelouch, with Nunnally against them, that Valentine was fully awake. And she stood by the edge, looking down at them with an unreadable expression on her face.

"You." Valentine found herself whispering, her indigo eyes settled on Euphemia's sleeping face. Fresh tears sprang in her eyes, thinking of how the gods must hate her — for giving her so a cruel fate, and of how they managed to cradle her half-sister with so much love, so much beauty, and so much kindness. "Why couldn't it be you?"

Her tone was bitter and Valentine wanted nothing but tear her out of this lovely picture and shove this pink-haired angel into an endless pit of despair. So she would know how it feels to suffer. So she would know how it feels to be in pain. To be broken. Valentine wanted to be _in_ there — to be sleeping side by side with Nunnally and Lelouch. Not Euphemia. They are Valentine's siblings. They are _hers._

 _They both have always been Euphemia's,_ her mind whispered, _always been hers ever since._

Valentine froze, a tear spilling out of her eye. And at that moment, all the anger, the jealousy, the resentment she bore for so long, all came spilling out, darkening her thoughts, clouding her mind. Images began to move fast — throwing her ugly memories of her siblings clinging to Euphy, of how they chose her instead of their own sister. Valentine's fingers twitched, shocked at how deep the hatred she had been burying all along. But she couldn't stop it.

And for once, she doesn't want to.

But then, realization took over and Valentine choked, unable to believe that she could feel something like this — this rage and helpless fury. The intense jealousy that ran, coursing through her veins. This was Euphemia! The only person who cared so much about her — her best friend! She shouldn't think of her this way…she shouldn't —

Suddenly afraid, Valentine bolted out of the room.

* * *

Valentine stumbled.

But before she could hurt or humiliate herself by accidentally smacking her face on the concrete floor, an elegant hand shot out and wrapped around her elbow, pulling her up gracefully.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" Alyn asked, his face calm. But she could see the faint note of alarm on his voice.

Valentine swallowed and nodded. It's been months she had last acquired another Geass power, but the side effect of her new ability seems to appear more often. She was remembering again — those kinds of memories that were better off forgotten. V.V. would often remind her that it would take time for the abilities to settle down, but somehow, this particular one would possibly bother her for quite a long time.

"Be careful." Her knight said again, eyeing her carefully before turning away.

Valentine opened her mouth, about to say something but then decided not to. Right after their little fight back in her room, Alyn was not in the mood to talk to her. Although she was used in this kind of childish spat, the guilt and the hurt that came with it was not a welcomed emotion. So she wanted to make everything all right again, though she's aware at the fact that her knight couldn't stay furious at her for so long. Alyn will always be Alyn, and Valentine swore she'd apologize later — and focus on the current matter instead.

"Sister."

 _Just in time._

Valentine looked up and immediately met Schneizel's eyes. She smiled.

"How nice of you to finally come and join me." He said, stretching out a hand.

The dark-haired princess took it, and let him lead her towards the Avalon's cavernous entrance. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Schneizel strode beside her, his face set in a smooth, gentle demeanor that could easily fool anyone. But Valentine knew better.

"Thank you so much Schneizel." Valentine said as soon as they had stopped. She hoped her face was a look of genuine gratitude — she _was_ thankful, in truth, at least. After such a long time of being contained inside the royal walls, she grew up feeling suffocated all her life. And although she was wary, this was freedom being given to her in a form of a gift — probably _too_ easily given — was still, freedom. As soon as the Avalon was up and a lot of miles away from Britannia, she would be free from the chains of her father. "I'll make sure I won't be nuisance."

That earned her a chuckle from her half-brother. "Why think of yourself a nuisance? If anything, I'm glad Father allowed you to come with me. You'll surely be a great help — especially with an intellect like yours."

"Please." Valentine gave a demure smile. "You flatter me too much."

Schneizel gestured to the man standing behind him — with rose-colored hair and light blue eyes. "I assume you've met my subordinate, Kanon?"

"Ah, yes. Only several times, but briefly." Valentine knew who Kanon was — the man that was always lagged behind Schneizel but she never had the interest to talk to him. She smiled at his brother's assistant. "Nice to see you again."

Kanon nodded, low and slow. "The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness."

Schneizel smiled, his expression looking so innocent and gentle that it made the hairs at the back of Valentine's neck stand on end. He was always so good at looking like an angel, this certain brother of hers.

"Now, do you mind if I escort you to your quarters, Valentine?"

"Not at all. I'd be honored."

"Then, follow me."

And Valentine did, but ended up walking side-by-side with him, anyway, followed by Alyn, Kanon, and a couple of other guards and his staff, who were just a few feet behind.

"It's your first time here, isn't it?" Schneizel asked casually, smiling again. "I'd like to show you around the Avalon myself but unfortunately, due to some matters…"

"Oh, don't worry about me." Valentine was quick to assure him. The thought of being around with Schneizel alone for quite a long time would unnerve her. She was too paranoid to treat the so-called tour as a normal thing. "I'll be fine."

"I'm really sorry, but I've discussed the issue with Kanon, and he agreed to accompany you."

She casted a what she hoped was a thankful enough look at the assistant over her shoulder, who only smiled in return. "Then, I can't wait."

"I'm glad to hear that. It's good to see you back in spirits, Valentine. After all of what happened with Clovis, everyone seems to be a bit down." His tone made her look at him again, in silent surprise. He sounded sad. But then again, he _is_ Schneizel after all.

"I'm sorry…about Clovis." Valentine managed to say after a few moments of silence. "I mean — he was a good brother." At some point, although she had never spoken much to her late brother all her life, Clovis was bearable, at least. Vain and snob, but still, quite decent in some ways.

"He was." Schneizel agreed sadly.

Valentine swallowed — now was her chance. She moved a little closer to him, dropping her voice to a low whisper. "Is it true, Schneizel? That Clovis was shot by a mere man?"

Her brother's violet eyes looked back at her. "We still don't know that yet — but I'm sure Cornelia's handling all of it right now."

Valentine stayed silent, her gaze now casted down the Avalon's carpeted floor. Schneizel must've considered her face as fearful, because when he spoke again, it was full of nothing but assurance "If the rumors were true, then it's an embarrassment for the security around us. But I don't think you'll have to worry much about yourself, Valentine. After all, your knight is always by your side."

She gave Schneizel a forced smile, and made herself nod, as if understanding. "Of course, of course. Alyn will always protect me, I'm thankful for him."

He gave her one of those disturbing, innocent smiles of his again. "Then good. And oh — if you'd like to turn around, that's your door."

Valentine blinked, then turned around. Sure enough, a metal door stood there, with guards stationed by each side, bowing low to their party. She didn't notice that they already have walked through half of Avalon's enormous halls, she was too preoccupied with everything that Schneizel was saying.

After flashing her brother another grateful smile, the dark-haired princess approached the door, which soon slid apart to reveal a luxurious-looking bedroom — dark walls, carpeted floors covered with sets of thick rugs, an immaculate four-poster bed made of heavy wood, velvet drapes and antique armoire. It looked like one of her many bedrooms back at the compound, and not like a room inside a floating ship at all.

She beamed, turning back on a waiting Schneizel. "It's perfect. Thank you so much, brother."

"You're welcome and I'm glad you like it. If there's anything you need — don't hesitate to call anyone. The staff answers to you. Enjoy the rest of the day, Valentine." Schneizel said, and with a nod, turned back as the doors slid shut behind him.

* * *

As soon as she was sure Schneizel was out of earshot, Valentine dropped her smiling façade and sighed. She was thankful it was over, because if she spent another minute with him and the others, she'll still be smiling, and she feared her face would freeze.

Slowly, she headed to the enormous bed, hands on either side of her head. She couldn't shake the suspicion that was driving her insane. Schneizel's act — no matter how utterly convincing to the rest of his staff, or even the world, was a failed ploy to make her trust him — as far as she was concerned, at least. He was always nice to her, that fair-haired half-brother of hers, but Valentine was fully aware of the fact that behind those innocent smiles, were a mind of a true genius. A mad genius. And she hadn't had the faintest idea of knowing what truly lies ahead of her now, that she's in his hands. Valentine was quite certain that Schneizel wouldn't just let her sit here and do nothing, no. As the Avalon makes its way to their destination, it leaves him enough time to think of something that'll make her useful.

Should she use her Geass to read him? It was a bold move — not to mention risky too.

Her head was starting to throb now, and Valentine gave a frustrated huff. Schneizel, Schneizel, Schneizel — with him around, she figured she had to keep her guards up. Cornelia, she could handle. But the older prince? Not really. Taking precautions around him is an absolute necessity.

"Damn it…" She cursed under her breath, rubbing her forehead in vain attempt to relieve the growing headache.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" Alyn, who was standing noiselessly by the door, asked.

Her head snapped up as she looked at him, her brain just registering his presence. She almost forgot about him. "I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache."

"Should I call somebody?"

"No need — you're overreacting." She told him wearily and leaned her head against the wooden banister. "I was just thinking about Schneizel."

Valentine watched Alyn's brows shot up, but he said nothing for a while. Instead, he lifted his gaze up to the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the heavy, dark room.

"What are you doing?" Valentine asked.

"Checking for bugs. Wouldn't want you to lose your head just because you talk behind your brother's back, inside _his_ flying ship." Alyn replied simply.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she shifted uneasily. "Alyn, I'm sorry."

He looked at her. "Don't be."

"Really, I'm —"

"Valentine, if I were in your shoes, I'd do anything to be free too, you know." His voice was gentle, almost sounding in assurance. "I've thought about it. I'm a soldier, I answer to people with a higher authority than me, and although you're royalty, you're still someone who answers to your father. We're no different." And suddenly, a wry smile appeared on his face. "But since I'm your knight, I answer only to you so I'm in good hands."

It was supposed to cheer her up, Valentine knew, and she was thankful. She gave her friend a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Alyn." And she threw herself across the mattress, which sank a few inches down under her weight.

Valentine closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling the subtle scent of lavender and feeling the tickles across her bare skin from the rug blanket. She savoured the room's quietness and the sense of freedom. Ten years ago, she never would have thought she'd live to see the day she'd get to leave the walls of Pendragon, but look at her now. Although temporarily, Valentine wholly agrees to the fact that freedom is sweet to taste — especially the first time.

"I'm free, Alyn." She said quietly, mostly to herself. Then louder. "I'm finally free."

And it felt good. It felt so good. It was like breathing air and she, a drowning woman. A smile danced across Valentine's lips, remembering the last time she felt like this, which was probably never. But still…

"Wait, Valentine." Alyn's voice, cut through her cloud of mental bliss. "Didn't you ask Schneizel where we're headed?"

Valentine's eyes snapped open and she immediately cursed herself. _Stupid, stupid!_ Why haven't she thought of that? She was so preoccupied at the thought of being momentarily free from Charles that she didn't even bother to ask Schneizel their destination, which would give her a total disadvantage.

 _Idiot,_ she scolded herself. Sitting up, she shook her head at Alyn.

Her knight's brows burrowed and he walked towards her in fast strides. Just as he was close enough, he leaned even more closely, and Valentine was surprised at the sight of how determined his eyes looked.

"Listen," Alyn said intently, his blood-red eyes focusing on hers. "I've heard rumors. I'm not so sure, but everyone seems to think that the Avalon is heading to —"

Before he could even finish, a knock echoed throughout the room, sending the female royal to stand upright in slight surprise. She exchanged looks with Alyn, who only nodded and gestured to the door.

Giving herself a few seconds to get composed, Valentine straightened herself and said "Come in."

"Forgive me for the intrusion, Your Highness." It was Kanon — and he wasn't alone. Behind him trailed a lone woman dressed in a simple emerald green garb. Valentine eyed both of them with a puzzled stare, which was as real as it could get since she really _is_ confused. "But I'm here on behalf of Prince Schneizel."

"Ah," Valentine gave a curt nod. "So, what brings you here?"

"His Highness would like to apologize for not informing you sooner, but he wishes to let you know that the Avalon is currently heading towards Area 11."

Valentine froze. And the wildfire of memories soon came rushing after.


	7. Chapter VII - Clarent

**Dark-ish chapter. Watch out for triggering content.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _Clarent_

Valentine was angry.

Her blood was roiling as she sat down during dinner, back straight and rigid, eyes smarting with composed fury. Around her, the guests and some other higher-positioned staff were chatting, filling the Avalon's great hall with the sound of buzzing conversations and the clatter of polished utensils. Music drifted through the air, filling the room with the illusion of light and pleasantry, but Valentine knew better. She wanted this blasted meal to be over so she could go back to her room and rage — and by rage, it means wanting to be left alone and deal with the memories her mind was throwing her way — all from the guilt as well as the aftermath of the Geass power she recently acquired.

But she couldn't do anything — not when she's under Schneizel's command, especially when he's unaware of the power that she and her father bears. Charles had made it very clear that no one should know unless he tells her so. And no matter how the idea of living underneath her father's boots make her grit her teeth, Valentine had no choice but to obey.

She took a deep breath and forced her muscles to plaster a tight smile on her face. Valentine tried to keep a hold of whatever emotions that was threatening to rise up, anything that could let her power slip and she, slide. An older man, with a balding head and greying beard — some sort of commanding officer — who was trying to converse with the Britannian princess, seemed to have given up and began to chat with an elegant-looking woman twice her age instead.

She craned her neck and looked around, trying to spot Alyn. Usually during dinners, he would be stationed right behind her and sometimes, when it was her lucky day and her father wasn't around, she'd throw a tantrum and insist on having him seated right next to her. But a while ago, she was too preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't even notice Schneizel asking her to have Alyn positioned by the entrance. Valentine couldn't recall that she had agreed, but it seemed like she did, because her knight was way too far from her liking. Valentine bit the inside of her cheek, reluctantly turning her attention back to the peas she was pushing to the corners of her plate with her fork. She was really getting annoyed now.

It was Schneizel, who had noticed her lack of enthusiasm. "What's the matter, Valentine? Aren't you enjoying your food?"

 _The food has been great, but it's my appetite that seems to be the problem_ , was already on the tip of her tongue, but Valentine surprised herself by saying rather sharply "I want Alyn here."

Her brother blinked, surprised at her sudden demand. "Your knight?"

"Yes." She faced him fully, her brows knitting together. "I want him beside me. Now."

She watched him force a smile, but Valentine could spot a bit of worry creasing his forehead as he leaned in to say "But Colonel Markus insisted to sit beside you. You wouldn't want to insult him, no?"

"I don't know him." Valentine snapped, already losing her patience at this fake display of nobility. Her voice was rising, and out of the corner of her eye, she had noticed that some of the guests had stopped whatever they were doing to look at the royal siblings.

It was Schneizel's turn to frown. "Valentine, it seems like not having your knight beside you isn't the problem. Would you care to tell me what's really going in? Are you sick? Father has mentioned —"

"Father doesn't know anything!" This had come out as a scream, and from far away, Valentine could hear the clatter of silver to the floor. The music had stopped. "And I suppose he told you to take me to Area 11 too?"

Schneizel's brows shot up in surprise at her reaction, a miniscule change to convey his disbelief. At this point, he had proven that he was also just as good in handling his emotions under aggravating circumstances — especially in public, which Valentine had obviously failed at.

"You did not tell me where we were headed." She continued on, words spilling out of her mouth before she could even stop them — not that she wants to. "You should have let me know before I had set my foot inside this ship."

Valentine had broken free of her mild-mannered façade, her tone was nothing but sharp and accusatory, which surprised most of her audience. Good reputation and a clean image were crucial for a royal, but for once, she didn't care. The people knew and cared so little about her, anyway. Compared to Cornelia and Euphemia and the other higher female royals, she was nothing.

This was the first time she appeared in public while outside the capital, and she had already decided to be at her best behavior, so that things would go as smoothly as possible. But Valentine couldn't contain herself — heading to Japan without any kind of consent from her was enough to make her mad. Especially now that she wasn't yet ready. A little scandal in exchange for the right to scream at Schneizel and let her frustrations out? It was a good enough deal.

"Sister, I am sorry. I thought you already knew." Schneizel said quietly. "I had assumed Father has already told you."

"He did not." Valentine replied, her voice quivering with anger. People were staring at her but she didn't care. Let them take a good look, reputation be damned. "And what made you think he will? He keeps me inside Pendragon at all times —"

"Valentine, I deeply apologize. I really am sorry." His half-brother extended a hand at her direction. "Come, let us talk about this—"

"No." She finally stood up, accidentally knocking her chair backward, to the surprise of the others. "I —" Valentine looked around, catching Alyn's eye in the process, who was already making his way towards her, and to the face of the wide-eyed Britannian nobles. Somehow, the sudden attention seemed all too familiar. As well as the feeling of her chest tight with so much frustration and confusion and fear and anger — that it was getting really difficult to breathe. And she knew very well that whispers and gossips about her would soon follow in huge quantities behind her back. "I…I'm sorry, I — I'm not feeling very well tonight. You will have to excuse me."

Valentine immediately turned her back and walked off, her footsteps echoing across the cavernous hall. Everything, everyone was looking at her in stunned silence, and she could feel their stares boring through her back. Her heart was hammering hard against her chest, and Valentine could feel her anger surge even more.

"My room." She barked at Alyn, who nodded in reply. "Tell anyone that I am not to be disturbed."

* * *

The pain was excruciating.

It was white-hot, bright and burning against the dark fathoms of her mind, squeezing every part of her consciousness, bringing nothing but _pain, pain, and pain._ It was more than having a knife stabbed into your skull and twisting it around and around until your brain was torn into bloody tatters. It was more than the feeling of having the bullet hit through the bone and sinking hard into soft flesh. It was unceasing, it does not ebb or flow — it was simply _there._

And Valentine felt like her head was going to explode. She wished it would explode.

"Make it stop! Make it go away!" Valentine screamed, forcefully banging her head against the wooden bedpost in a poor attempt to get rid of the pain. "STOP IT!"

She didn't know how long she was here, locked inside this unknown bedroom. All she could remember was playing outside the gardens alone, but surprisingly, her uncle V.V. kept close watch — his violet eyes following her wherever she went. But as soon as the first bout of headaches came, along with the unsteady flash of strange symbols within her line of sight, the next thing Valentine knew was having rough hands forcefully dragging her here. And the next were nothing but the pain.

"It hurts!" She shrieked again, her throat feeling raw. She must have been screaming for far too long — but she didn't care. It hurts — it hurts so bad.

Tears and dirt streaked her face as she screamed and screamed — wanting this agony to end. Valentine hit her head on the bedpost again, and blood willed against the fresh cut on her forehead, slowly dripping down in a thin rivulet. She wailed, collapsing on the floor, writhing and clawing — wanting something, anything that will get rid of this. She couldn't stand this anymore.

Valentine wanted to die.

"Mother, help me!" She sobbed, her frail form trembling. Valentine tried to stand up, but cried out, crashing back down, blinded by the searing pain inside her head. They were there — her parents and her uncle, watching and waiting. She couldn't see them, but she knew they were there. What are they doing? Why aren't they helping? Can't they see she hurt all over?

"Please, please help me. I c-can't…no more. Please. Please." Her voice seems to fade — everything seems to fade, everything but the pain. "Please…"

Valentine's breathing was slowing down, which was a huge difference compared to the shallow breaths she was having when the bouts of pain came again. It seemed like there was no end to this.

Mercifully, her vision starts to dim, with bright yellow spots dancing around her vision. She felt something warm and sticky roll down the bridge of her nose — blood. Her head wound didn't hurt. Nothing would hurt as much as the inside of her mind does. It was excruciating. She wanted someone — anyone — her big brother Lelouch, Nunally, even Euphemia. Just thinking of them made her heave out a huge sob she didn't know she was holding.

"Shouldn't we do something, Charles?" A calm, quiet voice came out of the darkness.

Valentine squinted, trying to see her mother, but another flash of pain made her shiver, her body involuntarily curling into a ball.

"Let her be." Another voice replied — this one sounded colder, more indifferent — it was the man with a face and body like a child, but his eyes and his mind showed old age. Her uncle with the strange name and even stranger thoughts, V.V.. "This is the power of the Geass. It manifests differently and it varies from user to user."

"But…I don't understand. This is the first time I've seen someone like this."

She heard her uncle snort. "Pain is a small price to pay. The power of the Geass hangs between the balance — the greater the power gained, the greater the cost. Things like this happen usually on people with powerful abilities. But most of them do not survive this stage. The human mind is fragile, and there are only a handful of those whose spirit does not break."

"Will she make it?"

"We will see."

Amidst the pain-induced haze, Valentine waited for the sound of her mother's voice. But it did not come. It was her uncle who spoke again.

"But then again, Marianne, it does not surprise me to know you remained to be ill-informed on matters like these. You've never been into the labs, no?"

Valentine didn't know what was going on. But she could feel her mother's quiet anger, the air around the dark room was starting to get heavier.

"Enough, brother." Charles' deep voice rang throughout. "You did not tell me that we're here to stand and watch the girl roll around. This is a complete waste of time. I should be going — I've got other matters to attend to. Marianne and I will take our leave."

Leave? Still half-blind from the searing pain, Valentine tried in vain to crawl her way towards their already fading footsteps.

"No — Mother! Where are you going? Don't leave me! Please! Help me!" Her cries echoed across the cavernous space, but it seems like they weren't stopping — not even for goodbyes. Valentine gave out a huge, desperate wail — which was only met by silence.

Fresh tears started pouring out her eyes as she sobbed on the thick carpet beneath her. She didn't know where V.V. went. Did he left? Was he still there? She didn't know. Valentine didn't know. She doesn't care anymore. The whole room was quiet, and Valentine was the only one who can hear the sound of her own heart breaking.

At only seven years old, Valentine vi Britannia realized her mother doesn't even care for her anymore.

And that was the time she knew — she knew that she was truly, utterly alone.

* * *

Valentine opened her eyes, irises immediately adjusting to the darkness of her bedroom. It took her quite a few seconds to remember that she wasn't at the royal compound anymore, she was inside a flying ship which was on its way to the place her siblings were exiled, then found a few years later and were declared dead.

She sat up and heaved a sigh, her throat feeling raw and dry. _What a life_ , she couldn't help but think.

She glanced to the right, at the wooden bedside table with a clock that says it was still one in the morning. Leaning over, she flipped her lamp on, only to jump back to see a silhouette standing by the foot of her bed.

"Alyn!" Valentine nearly yelled, clutching a hand to her chest. "What the hell are you doing over there?"

Her knight gave her a wry smile, clearly finding her surprised state amusing. Back in Pendragon, Alyn's room was only next to hers — although he did insisted he's fine sleeping into her walk-in closet, whereas Valentine had disagreed. Although she was paranoid that she'll get assassinated one day, the image of having her very best friend living in a mere empty space inside her room was degrading. But during her travels, they both share one room — and he's always sleeping on a pallet on the floor. Valentine had gotten used to it so much that it wasn't bothering her. It was nice to have company.

"Don't you ever do that again or else I'll kill you." She rubbed her face wearily. "Why are you still awake, anyway?"

"I should ask you the same thing." Valentine loved Alyn's voice — it wasn't deep like any other foolish men her age who sometimes danced her at parties or even stupidly asking her hand for marriage — it was calming, and soothing. Like a fresh breeze from a warm night. "You were screaming."

Oh. So that explains her sore throat. "I'm sorry."

"Nightmares?"

"I was dreaming of rainbows and castles and glittering crowns — and you in a dress." Valentine answered, fumbling for her slippers which magically disappeared beneath her bed.

"Valentine."

"What?" She raised an eyebrow as she retrieved her footwear. "Do you want some tea? I'm calling to get some."

"Val—"

"Turn the lights on, will you?"

With just a few seconds, Alyn managed to flip the switch on and get back to the spot where Valentine was standing. The Britannian princess frowned at him.

"You're very skittish today." She observed, collapsing on the huge armchair embroidered with red flowers.

He scowled as he settled his eyes on her slender frame. She was wearing a plain white nightdress – tent-like, covering her neck, her arms and even her ankles. Normally, any girl would have faltered under Alyn's intense gaze, but Valentine gets this look from him so much that she knew what this means. He was worried.

"Stop it." Alyn finally said, sitting on the opposite loveseat — right across from where she sat. "Stop changing the subject."

"And stop being such a worrywart. It's just nightmares. I'm _fine._ " She exhaled loudly, blowing away the heavy fringe on her forehead. "Just another side effect."

Her knight propped his legs on the small coffee table and stretched his arms. He was wearing a dark shirt and dark pants, his pale feet bare — probably the most casual thing she had ever seen him wear. "We haven't really talked about what you feel about the fact that we're headed to Area 11."

"I was assuming my tantrum back at the dining hall already gave it all."

"Yeah, you made quite a scene back there."

She shook her head, giving a small smile of disbelief. "They call me the Mad Princess behind my back, do you know? It's somewhat fitting."

"You're not crazy."

Valentine turned to him, another smile on her face. "But soon I will be."

Her friend said nothing and she ducked her head, settling her hands on the folds of her nightgown. For some reason, she was ticking off her fingers. _One, two, three_ , suddenly wondering where the tea she ordered had went. _One, two, three_ _…_

"Val — you're scared." Alyn said quietly.

"I am not scared." She whispered back, her eyes settling down on her lap as she played with her own fingers. "I'm _terrified._ "

And as if saying those words unlocked some mechanical switch at the back of her head, her mind — her damned, her stupid, her _cursed_ mind — suddenly began to start throwing her images. Hard and fast. Valentine blinked, and then swallowed, not wanting to be overwhelmed with unnecessary emotions again.

 _Japan. Area 11. Japanese. Elevens. Rebellions. Massacres. War. People died there. Lelouch died there. Nunnally died there._

Maybe she was going to die there, too. It was only a matter of time.

"Your Majesty?" A small, muffled voice jolted her back to her senses. Valentine blinked. "I brought your tea. May I come in?"

"Ah, yes. Please do." Valentine said loudly, avoiding another round of Alyn's gaze in the process.

The doors slid apart to reveal Makoto, already dressed in her usual green dress, slowly pushing a tea cart as she made way inside her bedroom. Valentine's brows furrowed — she wasn't expecting the woman to be serving her.

"You're still awake?" The Britannian royal asked. "Or do you not sleep at all?"

"I am to answer Her Majesty's commands whenever she needs me, no matter when or where." The young woman answered honestly.

"I see." She gave Makoto a nod, permitting her to start placing the cups and other tea utensils by the table, which was now free from any traces of Alyn's legs.

But to her surprise, the maid froze, looking somewhat hesitant and uneasy, as her eyes settled on Alyn, who only gave her an indifferent shrug.

Valentine sighed and waved a hand, as if dismissing the entire deal. "Alyn is here at my command. He will stay."

"Y-yes, Your Highness. Please do forgive me." And then she starts adding another empty cup for her knight.

Valentine knew that the air felt tense, and there were no other words for it — her maid, Makoto, was frightened of her. She didn't know why, and as of now, the raven-haired princess suddenly got the impression that her personal servant might be thinking that she and Alyn were sleeping together. Although the very idea was appalling, Valentine doesn't want to explain herself. If this was going to be one of the many underground gossips concerning the royal families' dirt, she couldn't care less. Let them think what they think.

"Thank you." She addressed her, raising her eyebrows as soon as the latter was finished serving. "You may go now — but leave the tray. I'll send someone to clean everything up later."

Makoto gave a short bow and quickly strode out of the room.

The Britannian princess bent down and picked up the fragile porcelain cup. She held it close to her face, letting the sweet-smelling steam waft up and warm her numb cheeks.

She gestured to her companion, who was frowning her way. "Tea?"

Alyn didn't answer, but continued staring at her. Usually, the very look on his face would have sent her into an uncomfortable state, which later on resulted to her speaking about things she had planned to keep to herself, but as of now, Valentine was in no mood to confine her thoughts to him.

"How about you, Alyn?" She asked him, her voice soft. "Aren't you scared?"

Valentine chose to ask this question because she knew. She knew that she isn't the only one whose demons are waiting at Area 11. Alyn had his fair share of horrible pasts — recently included was the death of his older brother, Rael, who was also a skilled Knightmare pilot, who chose to fight at the front lines rather than be part of the royal court. He died in that damned country too, but unlike her siblings, his body was delivered back to the imperial country and was given proper funeral rights. Valentine knew all of this because she attended his funeral herself.

"No." Her knight finally answered, picking up his teacup more elegantly than she did hers.

She gave a tiny scoff and her indigo eyes went back at him. "Then I envy you." She blew lightly on her drink. "Though I do wonder if my father did planned this all along."

"What are you going to do, Val?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"When you've arrived. What are you supposed to do, then? Surely, you can't just follow Schneizel around like a dog. You're bound to do things."

"Bound to do things?" Valentine repeated. Like murder her father's enemies? Threaten his followers when Charles had caught the slightest whiff of failure or betrayal? Manipulate innocents like helpless little pawns? Kill, lie, and then smile?

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Alyn sighed, his brow furrowing as he placed his undrunk tea back on the table. "I'm worried that your father's going to use you to infiltrate the rebels."

"The rebels…" Valentine closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Is it that bad out there, Alyn? Are they fighting?"

"From what I've heard, it's getting worse. A soldier was suspected to be behind Prince Clovis' death."

She scrunched her brows together. "A…soldier?"

"An Honorary Britannian."

The princess paused, letting the news sink in. She hadn't really stayed in touch with what's currently going on in Area 11, since almost all of her spies and informants were situated in the EU. Islands in the East were not "hers" to be so concerned of. The only thing that ties her to Japan were the fact that three of her siblings — two, her _real_ siblings, one, only she shared half of her blood with — were already dead. It seems like Japan is a dangerous ground for a Britannian royalty.

"I've read in the books that the Japanese people are known for their patriotism." Valentine said simply, and then shrugged. "I don't think those rebels are going to stand a chance, anyway — not when they know so little of how the war works in Britannia. And especially against Knightmares."

"And whatever they're planning to do, the Emperor isn't pleased." Alyn informed her. "He already sent Cornelia over, and now, Schneizel? I actually got a feeling that he's using him as an excuse for you to be sent here. He wants you to handle things yourself — _your way._ "

Her way? Did he meant by infiltration on the inside? Assassinating officials and never leaving traces? Aside from playing to be the calm, immovable princess — all the lying games and emotionless masks, those mentioned above were Valentine's field of expertise. For a long moment, she said nothing, deep in thought.

"I knew that my coming here was too good to be true." She swallowed hard as she too, placed her cup back on the table. She suddenly felt no need for tea for her nerves were now in a tangled, wired mess. Should she call Makoto back to bring in some lull to help her sleep? "When he had told me I could leave the capital, I thought I was finally free. It was foolish of me to hope."

Valentine spoke bitterly, forever despising the fact that she will always be tied in a leash, with her father holding the reigns. She doesn't fear for her life — but she feared for the lives of the people she cared so much about — Alyn, included. Charles was capable of many things, and just like any father, he knew his daughter's weaknesses. And it was enough leverage to have her doing his work.

With that thought in mind, her heart sank. And here she thought she was finally free from her father's orders. It was only then that the Britannian princess realized she would probably never get out of Charles' shadow — not with her Geass powers still imbedded into her.

She clenched her fists, suddenly hating the ounce of hope she had clung for so long. Manipulation, blackmail, _murder_ — were only some of her many jobs under the emperor's commands. Valentine wondered if what Alyn said was indeed true. Did Charles send her here to take care of things? But he did mention that the rebellion in Japan were of the small sort. Is he that worried about losing power over such a small country? Valentine didn't know. And it was an unnerving feeling, not knowing what her father's plans are.

She looked down on her slender fingers, suddenly wondering who the unfortunate person would die by both her eyes and her hands.

"You're not alone — don't you forget that." Alyn said softly, offering a small smile. He suddenly leaned in and placed one elegant hand on top of hers.

Valentine smiled back, albeit hers was shaky. "Yeah. Because I have my father and he won't ever leave _me._ "

Her knight scoffed a little, shaking his head in her failed attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "No. You have _me._ We're friends, Valentine."

Now it was the Britannian princess' turn to shake her head. Grateful as she was, she _couldn't_. Not Alyn.

"Alyn," Valentine said firmly, leaning in as well to take a better look at him. Her eyes were glittering with resolution. "Listen to me: I am not dragging you into this. Whatever happens, whatever stupid thing I'll probably do, you have to promise me that you are not going to stop me. You will not be risking your own life for mine. Do you understand?"

"No." Alyn said brusquely. "I'm your knight. I'm supposed to die for you. Don't be a goddamned idiot, Val."

"No." She shook her head. "No. I named you my knight because you _are_ my friend — my only friend. As good as a soldier you are, I don't want you to get hurt or be used by my father. You know how powerful he is, Alyn. The only way I could keep any eye on you is when you're by my side, _always._ This is my battle. And I don't want anyone fighting it for me."

"You're being stubborn again —"

"Yes. Because I meant everything I had said. I will find a way to get out of this, Alyn — my way and my way alone. Do you hear me?"

Their stares clashed — indigo and red, both intense, both were not backing down. Valentine bristled, clearly not pleased with the way Alyn was being an overprotective fool. She was not fragile — by any means. She knew she's powerful and she knew her father best, but she will never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Alyn just because of her.

"I can do this. Believe me." Valentine said, her voice filled with assurance and grim determination. She looked at him with strong certainty, praying to the gods that her knight wouldn't sense the fear that she was hiding underneath. No, she can do this. She _will_ do this — for both Lelouch and Nunnally, for the people she cares for, and for herself. "Promise me, idiot."

Alyn withdrew his hand and leaned back against the couch, breathing out a heavy sigh which probably meant defeat. He wasn't meeting her stare, and had shifted his gaze to study the patterns on the ceiling.

"Alyn." Valentine called his name once more, her tone clear and authoritative. "That's an order."

He closed his eyes, sighing once more. "Just take care of yourself, for me. Will you do that?"

"Yes. Now, do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Do you swear?"

His eyes flew open to give her an incredulous look. But he still said "I swear it on my life."

"Good." Valentine offered her hand for him to shake. And after a few seconds of hesitation, Alyn shook it once. Firmly. "Then we have a deal."

Valentine's Geass do not contain precognition powers, unfortunately. She honestly have no idea what was coming. But for some reason, she was oddly feeling like something huge was going to happen — something miraculous, even. She slowly began to realize that although she might still be tied to Charles in some way, she was not in his sights, anymore. She had made several attempts to escape his clutches, yes, but none of them had ever worked. Valentine had received numerous punishments for it, but she was a kid back then — always fearful, always cowardly. Now, is this the time for her to take the risk and jump — or dive?

Valentine shivered inwardly. It was a dangerous question, a dangerous game. Because once she was in, there was no turning back. When the match starts, her father would play — and he makes a very difficult enemy — so cunning and merciless, the type that could outmatch her in just a blink of an eye. She still wasn't sure if she's willing to take the risk.

Because the price would be death — either hers or her father's.

* * *

 _Valentine,_

 _Last night's dinner was a disaster, and it's entirely my fault. I deeply apologize for being so callous and putting you into such an uncomfortable situation. I have talked to the entirety of the guests, and they understood what you were going through —your experiences with Japan has been entirely traumatic, and they agreed that we should all keep it between ourselves._

 _If it's all right with you, I would like to prove how sorry I am in person. Will it be all right if you could meet me in the West wing of the Avalon? Your handmaiden will lead you there. I have something that might catch your interest, and it's been sitting here inside the hall for quite a long time already. And I think it's time for you two to meet. Or if you're still not ready, I do understand._

 _Sister, if ever you changed your mind about this trip and would want to go home, just send word. I don't want you to feel like anyone's been forcing you to go ahead — even when you're not ready. All I want is for you to feel comfortable and happy._

 _—_ _Schneizel._

Valentine shoved the letter into her dresser drawer the next morning with raised brows. Leave it to Schneizel to compose summoning slips like a romantic sonnet for a lover. Although, she did appreciate that it was written by his own hand.

She turned to Alyn, who was draped on the couch like a jungle cat. "You — out." She said, pointing to the door. "Schneizel wants us to meet and I have to go and get ready. And send my maidservant in, if you please."

Her knight only casted her a sideways glance before standing up, shrugging. And without saying anything, Alyn strode out of the room, leaving the dark-haired royal alone. As soon as her doors slid automatically shut, a few seconds passed before it opened again — this time, it was Makoto who came in, still wearing her servant's uniform.

"Good morning, Your Majesty." She greeted as soon as she had stepped into her bedroom.

Valentine merely spared her a glance through her mirror before ordering "Have some of my day dresses ready — I'm going to have an audience with my brother."

The older woman bowed her head. "Yes, Princess."

Another pair of servants, both young women, trailed into her bedroom from the ajar bathroom door. Unlike the slant-eyed Makoto, these girls were obviously of Britannian blood.

"Princess, your bath is ready." One of them announced, ducking their head like all servants do in Pendragon. It was of Britannian tradition that workers dare not meet their master's eyes, which the people obviously took seriously up until now.

On usual days, Valentine doesn't take long to get ready, even when in Pendragon, with no personal maids involved. But forty-five minutes later, she finds herself sitting on the edge of the tub, the water already cold against her slick skin, glassy-eyed and wondering.

She was anxious to meet her brother again, the realization of her actions suddenly dawning on her. What do those people think of her now? What about Schneizel? Did she blurted out anything that might cause suspicions about her and her father's secret? It was true that people often say things they shouldn't when their emotions are running wild. Groaning, she buried her face in her hands, cursing at the fact of how she had let herself slip so carelessly.

 _It doesn't matter,_ Valentine thought as she finally rose up, _what's done is done._ All she has to do now was find some way to fix it — or create a very good, believable excuse.

It took her another entirety of another hour to get dressed. It wasn't her fault — the maids were moving rather very slowly. If this were some ordinary day, she would have snapped at them and ordered them to hurry. But for now, she was grateful for the time. She needed to think.

When it was finally over, she immediately dismissed the two other maids.

"But you," She said to Makoto. "You're staying here. Fix my hair."

"Yes, Your Highness." The servant murmured demurely, bowing her head and immediately settled to work.

For some reason, as she sat there in a chair in front of her vanity, she couldn't help but look at the woman. Makoto had long, ordinary brown hair tied back in a simple knot behind her head. She was a bit on the shorter side, with hands that looked accustomed to hard work — not the kind of fingers that were spend braiding a spoiled princess' hair.

She was given to her, the last time Kanon went inside her room. Schneizel's gift to her, he had said. And Valentine was aware of how disapproving she had sounded back then, clearly detesting the idea of a personal maid — much less a non-Britannian. But she was tired of arguing and complaining, already sounding like a rotten brat, so she decided to keep her. Which she found interesting, to think about it, since Kanon _did_ say she's Britannian but her looks alone wouldn't prove that.

"Did you know," Valentine began, as she looked at the mirror to stare at the Eleven woman's reflection. "That a Japanese man had killed my brother, Prince Clovis?"

Makoto paused, the hairbrush she was holding hovering by her head. "An _Eleven,_ Your Majesty. No one calls them that anymore." Valentine had noticed that her hand was shaking when she resumed brushing her hair.

A smile began to flash across her lips. _Cruel, cruel,_ her mind had whispered, but she ignored it. "Is it? But Alyn has told me that he was an Honorary Britannian — like _you._ " She kept her tone innocent, but it was obvious that Valentine was being a bitch, for she had meant it. She was trying to test this woman, but of what, she still wasn't sure.

"Yes, he was."

"Did you know him?"

"Only through the news, Princess." Makoto's voice was calm, as she run her fingers through Valentine's silky hair.

"He deserves to die, don't you think?"

Valentine was really smiling now, knowing fully well how much of an evil witch she is. The maid, however, showed neither sign of pity nor sympathy — in fact, there was no emotion on her face at all. Which obviously meant she was getting worked up — torn to both sides, that is. She was trying to see how far this woman would break underneath too much poking and prodding.

The dark-haired princess waited for a few more seconds, but Makoto didn't answer.

"Stop." She raised a hand and swivelled around to fully face the woman. "How can I trust you?" Valentine shot, dropping all the bullshit. She wasn't getting any deeper with it, anyway. "Aside from the approval you probably gained from fooling every official you've gone through — even my brother, how am I supposed to know you're not a spy? That you are not a rebel?"

The Japanese maid stared at her for a few long moments, her dark eyes glittering with something which Valentine realized later on, was grim determination.

"You will not." Makoto replied, after a tense silence.

"I will not what?"

"You will not trust me, Your Majesty — no matter how hard I'll try to earn yours, you still will not. My blood is enough to have people doubting me and my loyalty, but it is through my faith — in myself — alone that made me what I am now. I do not expect to be by your side all the time, but I do what is I am ordered to do. I may be considered a coward by my people, but for my children, I tend to pick the winning side — even if it means betraying my country."

Valentine was so tempted, so very tempted to reach out and touch this woman, to activate her Geass and learn all of her deepest, darkest, most sincere thoughts — to learn her story, her past, her history. But she will have to save that thought for later, when she truly needed it. For now, her gaze was enough. Since her father and her uncle had forbidden her to use her Geass under ordinary circumstances, she spend most of her lifetime reading, if not books, then people. After years of practice, which included thorough observation and constant watching, she realized it was the little things that matter the most — the way a person breathes, the way their pupils would enlarge when backed into a corner, the way they seemed to hold themselves, the way their eyes would reflect their lies.

But this woman, this woman was clean. Either she was a very good actress with total self-control, or she was telling the truth.

"You have earned the right to be called one of us." Valentine said slowly, turning around to look at herself in the mirror. "Do not look down so much on yourself — after all, your children are expecting you to be strong." Before Makoto could say anything, she had spoken first. "Leave. You are dismissed."

She felt her hesitate, but Valentine was firm. She didn't turn, never looked at her again. Instead, she waited for her footsteps to grow faint. And after the door had slid shut, signalling her departure, the princess let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and gazed at her reflection again.

* * *

"What's wrong?" Alyn finally asked when Valentine had sighed for about the twelfth time during their walk to the ship's West Wing. "You're doing it again."

"Nothing." She replied, rubbing her forehead. "Today is a very long day, that's all."

"You tell me. And it's not even close to ending just yet."

In the end, after realizing she had let the only person who was supposed to accompany her on her way to her brother, Valentine had asked Alyn for help. And soon enough, after a few minutes of walking and talking, striding through hallways and ending up in dead-ends twice, they finally reached a gigantic set of doors that was identical to those in Pendragon. As soon as they came in, Schneizel appeared with his usual smile.

"Valentine." He said by way of greeting. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. I was thinking that you wouldn't make it."

She ducked her head. "Schneizel — I apologize. For that _and_ my actions last night. I wasn't feeling so well. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Why wouldn't I? When clearly, it was my fault to begin with. As of now, I'm just grateful you're here." Schneizel turned to her knight. "And I thank you for showing her the way."

"It's just part of my job, Your Highness." Alyn replied with a polite nod.

Her brother offered his elbow. "Shall we?"

Valentine looped her arm through his, and they walked towards the room, which she had noticed were unlike any other areas she had seen inside the Avalon. The walls were white — even the floors were uncarpeted, but made of gleaming metal. People were milling about, giving occasional greetings to the royal siblings. It was some sort of a laboratory — filled with computers of different sizes, mechanical tools, and other gadgets and data sheets and information-filled tablets.

"Where are you taking me?" Valentine asked him, watching each stranger that would garner her attention. Each looked like either scientists or mechanics — some even pilots, dressed in bodysuits fitted for piloting Knightmare frames. "This is the laboratory, correct?"

"It is, indeed." Her half-brother answered easily. "I'm taking you to someone I've known for quite a long time — he wants to show us something and believe me, you're needed."

"A _he?_ As much as I would like to, I don't think I'm ready to meet Colonel Markus again just yet."

"Oh, it's not the colonel. Don't worry, the man is a friend. I'm sure you'll like him."

"Then, I wonder who that is." She glanced back to give Alyn a knowing look.

Valentine had no idea how gigantic the room was — until they had passed through another narrow hallway, lit brightly with white lights — to emerge out of another room bigger than the dining hall. This time, the dark-haired royal was certain that Knightmare frames were being brought here. Although she was feeling unsettled due to Schneizel's presence, she couldn't help but smile a little at the familiar sight of the gigantic humanoid weaponry that stood before them. Several soldiers and workers bowed as they passed by, to which she only responded with a nod, refusing to smile the way her half-brother did at them.

"Alyn," She called, looking back at him again. "Are you seeing this?"

His reply came out half-wry and half-amused. "Yes, Princess."

Her smile was a full-on grin now. She knew Alyn must have felt it too — that simple happiness by just seeing those mechanical beings. Her fingers twitched, wanting to fly one so badly, but Valentine balled her hands into a fist, trying to get a grip, but it was difficult.

They spotted Kanon standing just a few feet beyond them, waiting. Valentine had noticed the man positioned beside him. She wanted to ask, but thought the better of it.

"Hello, Your Majesty." Schneizel's assistant greeted politely at Valentine, who only smiled demurely in return.

"Valentine, may I introduce Byron Abernathy? He's an alumnus of the Imperial Colchester Institute and has been working for me ever since — a scientist, an engineer, a mechanic — he's a very brilliant man." Schneizel said, motioning to the stranger. "Actually one of the few people who developed the Sakuradite technology."

She smiled at the man, amidst herself. "It's an honor. How do you do?"

"The honor is all mine, Princess." Byron replied, his voice hoarse and gravelly. "Prince Schneizel praises me too much, but I thank him still."

Byron was a tall man, born with a strong built. His hair was a dark brown, cropped closely along his head, and brown eyes to go with it. There were numerous scars along his face, and the one running down his left cheek was the most noticeable — white against his bronze skin. There were bristles all over his jaw, meaning he probably hadn't went through a razor for a while. And like any other of the scientists working, he was wearing a white lab coat but underneath it was only a simply blue shirt and dark pants. If looks were to be judged, Valentine wouldn't actually think he's a laboratory kind of a person. So this was the man that Schneizel wanted her to meet. But what does all this mean? Him, the Knightmares, the secret — what is going on?

It was then Valentine had noticed the hulking figures behind the man, draped in miles of white cloth. She need not to ask for she already knew they were probably new Knightmare models, for the security escort of the Avalon.

The confusion must've been obvious in her face, for Schneizel cleared his throat, and said "Pardon me, but I'm afraid you must be confused to as why we're here, Val. Well, what can I say? The surprise is here."

Valentine paused, unsure of what she had heard. "Surprise?"

"The reason I've called you here is because Byron and I have been working through a project for quite a long time now. During the early stages, I've managed to flip through some of his earlier creations — one of them a design suited for an advanced weaponry system. However, the materials were ill-suited and found too expensive for such invention and therefore, he had to withhold the idea for some other time."

"I see…" She found herself saying slowly, intrigued.

"But then, he realized that the design was perfect for a Knightmare Frame. Byron immediately approached me the idea when our project prototype was already half-done and it was too good that the idea of rejecting it was too much. So I decided to go and fund him another one."

"Another what? Another Knightmare?"

"Yes. And he didn't only create one — but two. Twin Knightmare prototypes. And as soon as I saw it, I immediately knew."

Valentine was swallowing now. She was already seeing what Schneizel was trying to say. But there's a huge probability that she was wrong. She wouldn't hope. She wouldn't dare hope…

"I knew that you are the perfect pilot for it."

She stared at him, at her blonde, clever, half-brother who obviously doesn't know what he's talking about.

"So yes, I thought I could give it to you." Schneizel's eyes crinkled as he smiled again. Then he turned to Alyn. "You and your knight."

Valentine froze. She couldn't see Alyn's face but she knew he was just as stunned as she is.

"A Knightmare…" Valentine repeated slowly, trying to decipher if this was some sort of dream. "You're…giving me a Knightmare? Schneizel, I can't…"

He turned to Byron, who nodded and cleared his throat.

"Majesties," He says to the siblings. "Allow me to present, the Clarent and the Caliburn."

* * *

 **My sincerest apologies for taking so long, but here we are. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, although I do admit my pacing is a bit slow. For those waiting for action, I ask for patience. I wanted Valentine to appear more wholesome so I added a bit more depth to her character to make her more complicated than she already is (lol). It is _her_ side of the story, anyway.**

 **UPDATE (11/7/2017): A kindly anon has pointed out that the Britannian Imperial Family is ranked by birth order. Since Valentine is older than Euphemia by mere months, she's basically the Third Princess, whereas Euphy is the Fourth, and not the other way around. It was a huge error on my part - I apologize. Thanks so much for the corrections, I appreciate it. If there are more, please don't hesitate to let me know.**


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